Deliverance
by Excalibards
Summary: A rather unconventional group of would-be rescuers forms in an effort to save Kitty Pryde from her fate, post GSAXM #1. Chapter 9, in which there is drinking, Bobby gets offered a job and Pete and Ali chat about what happens next. Reviews are welcome!
1. Common Causes

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4. Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it.

Now, on to the story.

* * *

Deliverance

**Deliverance**

**Chapter One: Common Causes**

Pete hung up the phone and glared at the receiver, wondering just what kind of intelligence agency he was running.

He'd figured that Kitty was somehow involved when he'd gotten the reports of the giant metal thingamabob that had passed through the Earth without leaving a mark. Seemed like the kind of mess she'd take on, and the power signature was unmistakable. And yeah, he'd wondered just how she'd managed to pull that off, considering it was a damn sight bigger than anything he'd ever seen her phase before.

He couldn't believe he'd let it drop there and just let his agents keep tabs on what Earth's most brilliant heroes were doing to get her back out again. 'Course, he'd been busy with the whole Skrull invasion, but...

It was Kitty. He should've gotten to work right from the start on finding a way to save her from her predicament, especially since "bonded to the inside of a giant bullet" was a bit extreme, even for her. Granted, he'd passed on the chance to save her when he'd been given that… wish, but he'd also thought he'd left John to rot, too, and there'd been too many lives on the line to spend it on individuals. They'd saved John's green arse in the end, though, and if they could save John, he was damn well going to do the same for Kitty.

He got to his feet and made a grab for his coat, cursing as he groped for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't there. He'd known trying to quit had been a bad idea. First thing he was doing when he got to the States was buying half a dozen cartons. He was going to need them to pull this off; he always did his best thinking with people accusing him of giving them cancer, and given that Kitty had one hell of a head start on him, this was going to take every resource he could drum up.

Apparently her own spandex-wearing teammates hadn't gotten around to doing a thing about rescuing Kitty from a fate worse than outright death. That was going to change, now. Even setting his personal feelings aside, anyone could see that this was something that needed doing.

* * *

"You want me to what?"

John lifted his eyebrows incredulously as he regarded Pete behind his signature round glasses. The last of the Skrull Beatles had done a lot in the defense of Earth against his own people, but what his commander was asking of him had honestly taken him by surprise. "Dunno if I really heard you right."

Pete tilted his head forward, one finger drawing his shades down his nose so he could look John straight in the eyes. "I spoke clearly enough, mate," he said, voice firm and confident. "So can you fly it?"

That was the question. "Might take a bit to get used to her," John conceded after a few moments of silent consideration. "The last model I flew's been obsolete for two decades, like, but most of the basics are the same, so if you really need me-"

"That's settled then," Pete interrupted, apparently satisfied with the answer.

John was not to be deterred. "But the _Lamprey's_ Crown property now," he reminded the dark-haired secret agent. The Skrull scout ship had been one of the spoils of Britain's victory in their part of the war with the shapechanging aliens, and the country's top scientists were already hard at work inspecting it and all the technology it held. "You'll never get permission to use it, especially for something like this."

Smirking slightly, Pete said, "Let me worry about that, yeah?" He slid back into the cushioned chair behind his desk and formed a steeple with his fingers. "That's sorted then," he continued. "Now we need to track down the rest o' the crew."

"Want me to round up the others, then?" John offered, glancing around the empty office. He wasn't sure where they'd all taken off to, but most likely it wasn't far…

"No," Pete told him, reaching for a clipboard and turning the top sheet over. "Not for this. I have something different in mind. Pack your things. We're off to San Francisco."

* * *

Emma Grace Frost paced the room with the sure step of a lioness on the prowl, her posture textbook-prefect and failing to betray even the slightest hint of discomfort. Yet it was pacing nonetheless, and so upon reaching her desk the former White Queen paused, brushing gloved fingers along the smooth wooden surface as if she were on the verge of casually leaning against it. "How were you able to find us, Agent Wisdom?" she said with clipped formality as she regarded the man through ice-blue eyes, face impassive.

She knew, of course. Much though she might care to dismiss the efficiency with which the world's intelligence agencies operated, she was well aware of Peter Wisdom's abilities in that regard. In fact, she was rather surprised it had taken him this long to seek her out, if only for a first hand account of the…situation.

Yes. Best to think of it as that, rather than as yet another failure on her part.

"It's called 'intelligence' for a reason," Wisdom replied around a fresh cigarette. The noxious fumes permeated the room in a foul mist and Emma's nostrils flared ever-so-slightly as she idly reached for the small, plastic desk fan located near her computer monitor. A small press of a button and it whirred to life, dispersing the smoke just enough to provide scant relief.

Expression unchanging, Emma said, "This heat can be unbearable at times, don't you agree?" She could sense Wisdom's own discomfort with the climate rising to the surface of his thoughts at that remark and allowed herself a mental smile. She herself exuded a practiced aura of perfect comfort, with not a single drop of sweat to mar her flawlessly smooth skin. Her alabaster business suit was more cover than she typically wore, yet still managed to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. The color served as a stark counterpoint to the very dark pants and tie Wisdom was wearing, his trenchcoat long since abandoned and hanging on a rack by the door. "I believe you said something about being able to save Katherine when you requested this meeting."

Wisdom smirked, just a little, and said, "You get straight to the point, don't you?" He approved, by the sound of his voice, but didn't specify either way. "Accent could use some work, though. Yeah, I've got a ship that can reach her, and a few ideas-"

"A few ideas?" Emma scoffed dismissively, suppressing the surge of hope she'd scarcely allowed herself to feel since Katherine had left them. "The top minds on Earth have been working out how to help her since before the mutant birth and have yet to arrive at a practical solution."

"Yeah, I twigged that. Figure it's time we took a turn."

"We?"

Wisdom made a slight nod. "I need you. You've gone deeper in her mind than anyone."

"No," Emma said abruptly, face tightening as she cut him off from going any further. There was a hard, almost bitter edge to the word. "If it were that simple I… I would have… They're working on it." There was no denying the defeat in what she'd just said, and it disgusted her.

"Bollocks," Wisdom shot back as he stepped closer to her. "I've seen their reports. They think they know what happened to her, but you stayed with her right until the end. You _felt_ it, and our best chance of bringing her out of it is if you're there." Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he took another step, until he was only inches away from her, eye to eye and neither willing to yield. "Besides, aren't you lot always going on about how the X-Men look after their own?"

He had a point. Emma's eyes shifted to the side and she crossed to the other side of her table, as much to consider his words as to put some distance between them. "She… changed, Wisdom," she said, the words almost coming out as a sigh as she let one hip come to rest against the desk. "It's going to take more than my mind to bring her out of it, even if we find her."

"We'll find her," Wisdom said without hesitation.

Emma's eyes narrowed cannily as they flicked back over to Wisdom. "There is someone who might be able to address the other problem, although the poor boy doesn't realize it." It was a long shot, yes, but the potential was there. She knew that, far better than anyone. Certainly far better than the boy did himself. Of all the possibilities her mind had picked at and discarded over the intervening weeks, this was the most likely to succeed, given the resources at hand.

A longshot, yes. But then, the man before her had something of a history of playing longshots that worked out. And she wasn't quite as prepared to abandon Katherine to her fate as Scott believed.

"Yeah?" Pete said, letting his interest show with a slight arch to his eyebrows. "And who's that?"

The smallest of smiles played over Emma's lips as she regarded the Englishman. "Tell me, Mr. Wisdom. Have you ever met Robert Drake?"

* * *

"You want to do _what_?"

Bobby's stare flipped from Emma to the surly looking Brit she'd introduced as Pete Wisdom and back again as he fought to pull his jaw up off the floor.

It wasn't as if he hadn't given any thought to the fate of Kitty Pryde. He had. A lot of it, actually, once he'd heard Scott explain just what the brains of the superhero community thought had happened. He _liked_ Kitty, and the idea that she was flying through the galaxy, alone and bonded to a giant bullet or missile or whatever it was, made him sick to his stomach. He'd been one of the multitude of heroes on that space station hit by that magical backlash that made everyone think they stopped the bullet and saved Kitty. Waking up to find out it was all an illusion had been hard enough to take, and the explanation was a little too close to some of his own worse nightmares for comfort. It rubbed him the wrong way that everyone had all but abandoned her to her fate, especially considering that she'd just saved the world.

For all their "we look after our own" motto, it seemed to him that the X-Men didn't do a whole lot of that these days.

But this…okay, he could see Emma going along with Wisdom's plan; it took someone with all the sensitivity of Scott Summers to not realize how deeply Kitty's loss had affected her, and he prided himself as having better interpersonal skills than their Fearless Leader. And he had to admit, the Skrull ship Pete had described was probably their best chance of catching up with the bullet. What he couldn't figure out was why Emma had called him in to tell him about the plan, or why exactly she wanted him along.

Then too, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. Emma's plans for him tended to have unfortunate side effects, ranging from unconsciousness to the creation of extra-pointy ice extremities. As a rule, he generally tried to avoid Emma's plans altogether.

"Told you already. We're stealing a Skrull ship from the British government, flying it after the bullet, and rescuing Kitty from the mess you gits left her in. Are you in or not?" Wisdom stubbed out his cigarette on Emma's coffee cup, ignoring the glare she shot him and instead meeting Bobby's eyes with a look that suggested he was taking his measure and wasn't impressed with the final analysis.

Considering Bobby gave himself a similar look pretty much every morning in the mirror, he was pretty much unfazed by that. He could, however, make a point of trying to prove otherwise.

"Of course he's in," Emma said coolly, her lips curling up in what passed as a smile. "Robert wouldn't dream of leaving a damsel in distress. Would you?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

It wasn't even a question, really. She was just waiting for confirmation. And as usual, she was right.

"I'm in," he heard himself saying. It was pretty much inevitable that he was going to regret whatever Emma was plotting later, but she was right. If there was a chance of getting Kitty out in one piece, he wasn't about to say no.

He paused a moment to choose from among the questions flooding his mind for which was the most likely to be answered, then grinned over at Pete.

"So, how are we going to get the Skrull ship?" he asked. "And can I fly it?"

* * *

A jet lagged Ali was _not _a happy or patient Ali, and the former pop star turned superhero heaved a sigh of annoyance as she stepped through the doorway and noted the absence of anyone at the desk in the outer office. Dropping her duffle in the nearest chair, she made a bee-line for the closed door leading to the inner office, following the faint sound of muffled voices from inside.

"Might want to give them a minute," an unfamiliar, accented voice warned, breaking into her thoughts and stalling her intentions. Hand pausing on the doorknob, Ali's head swiveled to the side, eyes narrowed, then suddenly widening in surprise. Was that…?

…Nah, no way.

But it definitely _looked _like John Lennon was sitting in the outer office, thumbing through a beat up copy of Maxim. Shapeshifter? Ghost? Clone? Alternate reality duplicate?

One too many vodka martinis on USAir?

"That so?" she asked noncommittally, reining in the initial surprise and raising an eyebrow, hand still poised on the doorknob and ready to blast…whatever or whoever this was if he did anything suspicious. Besides looking like a dead guy. It wasn't like that didn't happen a lot when you ran with this crowd. "Big meeting?"

John Lennon, looking the very picture of a Beatles cover album from the 60s come to life, pushed his stylishly retro glasses up on his nose and regarded her more or less calmly in return, shoulders lifting in a negligent shrug. "Seems so. I'm just the hired help, waiting my turn."

Right. Dead John Lennon was the new butler. It all made sense now.

The temptation to open the door and ask whoever was in this 'big meeting' if they knew the dead rock singer camped out in the outer office was even greater than it'd been to announce her presence so she could get some sleep, but Ali discarded that idea pretty fast. Mostly because that sort of question just didn't carry the surprise factor around here it would most other places.

"So, what, you're here to join up?" she asked instead, moving away from the door and perching on the edge of the desk, legs crossing smoothly and regarding him across the distance. "Those White Album royalties must really suck these days."

A snort of what sounded might've been amusement or exasperation and Not-John was shooting her a level look through those same retro glasses. "Yeah," he deadpanned and she thought she caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "S'all Boko's fault." Dropping the magazine into his lap, the likeness of a dead music icon shook his head. "But don't get too attached, like. I'm back to London, once we're done in space."

That went a long way toward confirming all those National Enquirer rumors that John Lennon was an alien. Interest piqued and desire to check in and run blown out of the water, Ali made a mental note to ask him about Elvis before this was over.

"Back to the home planet for a visit, huh?" the former singer asked with good natured sarcasm and an equally good natured smile. "Business or pleasure?" John's reaction was, to say the least, not the one she'd expected. What she got for asking a question like that around here of all places.

"Business, nothing to do with the Empire, though," he stated matter of factly, leaning back in his chair and draping his arms casually along the top edge. "Right mess, that is. Wouldn't go near it these days." John Lennon _was_ an alien? Oh, great. Seriously, she was getting too old for this and her heart couldn't take it. Maybe it wasn't too late to try to pick her career back up after all.

"Right…" Ali agreed, kind of, wondering which Empire and which mess he might be referring to but deciding it was in the best interest of her time-zone addled brain to save those questions for later. Hey, not like it was the first time she'd stumbled on random aliens hanging around the house. Probably wouldn't be the last. Live with the X-Men, learn to deal. "So that's the big meeting. Another trip to space. Looks like I'd better catch that nap, if I'm planning on getting one."

"Pete's idea," John interjected with a shrug and a nod, and Ali's head came up again, eyes snapping to his face. "Got his head set on rescuing some girl they lost a month or so back. He's in there hashing it out with the Lady in White now."

And it all clicked into place. Blue eyes slid sidelong to the still closed office door, nerves doing a jangling dance before she put a firm clamp on them. Fate had decided to play a lot of games with her lately, and looked like this was just one more. Sometimes, Fate was a real bitch.

"They're going after Kitty." It wasn't a question as she looked back toward John, finding the dead, alien, ex-Beatle, whatever, smiling back at her in a way Ali was sure had made a few thousand teeny-boppers pass out cold back in the day.

"That's the plan. Can't say I'll mind the trip so much, if there's more like you going along."

Crooked smile curving her lips, she glanced from John, over to the door, and back again. "There aren't any more like me. I'm one of a kind," she assured him, bracing her hands on the edge of the desk and settling in. Looked like that nap would have to wait. "But you can bet I'll be going along on this one."

* * *

A flash of light preceded her arrival by seconds, just enough time to allow the pair in the office to turn and look startled.

Illyana grinned, red eyes glowing ominously as hoofed feet came into contact with solid ground. With any luck the two would run, leaving her free access to the woman behind the other door. All she needed was four more souls, and of the people she'd feel least guilty about harvesting one from, Emma Frost was on the top of the list.

Pixie had been a mistake. She knew that, and felt a twinge of conscience when she realized she'd subjected the innocent teen to exactly what Belasco had done to her. Granted, she still couldn't think of anything else she might've done, but it had been wrong.

Emma, though…

"Whoa. So, are you related to Tink or something? 'Cause if you're popping by for a visit, she sat out this jaunt."

Illyana frowned as her eyes settled in on the man who'd spoken, who was looking her over as if impressed by what he was seeing. He looked familiar; not someone she knew, but someone she'd seen before. But before she could pull a name from her memory, an incredulous voice spoke up.

"Illyana? Or is this some huge Skrull reunion type thing?"

She knew that voice, and her eyes widened as she turned to look at the other woman in the room. Pink hair, now, far shorter than she'd ever seen it, but there was no mistaking the face.

"Alison?" she squeaked, forgetting for the moment that soulless demon sorceresses didn't make squeaky sounds, and that she on a mission to rectify the whole soulless part.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" they both said at once.

"Y'know, I get that all the time," the man said drily with a wave of his hand. "Even came close to it for real the other day. But both you birds look alive to me."

"I can't believe – just look at you!"

Before Illyana could reply to that, she found herself on the receiving end of an excited embrace. And even more surprisingly, found herself returning it.

"I thought you died in Dallas," she finally managed to blurt out.

"Yeah well, I thought you died of Legacy. It sort of evens things out, right?"

Illyana let out a soft snort of laughter. "Pretty much," she admitted, still feeling more than a little dazed. She'd known that somehow, her brother had survived the confrontation with the Adversary. But for Dazzler to be alive as well…

"What about the others?" she asked, pulling back from Ali's shoulder. "Storm, Wolverine…?"

"All alive," Ali confirmed with a nod as she moved back and hopped up on the desk she'd been leaning against. "Sorry about the whole faking our own deaths thing. It was one of those ideas that sounded good in theory, not so much in practice. Now tell me, what've you been up to? We're heading out in a few minutes to rescue Kitty from the giant bullet of doom, but we can catch up until then."

"From what?" she asked, a surge of dread crashing over her. If Kitty was gone…seeing Alison, it was hard to dismiss the feeling that her initial idea about retrieving her humanity had been the right one. She'd known how, once, and it hadn't had anything to do with the medallion, or the souls of others, just her own. But if Kitty was gone…

"Y'know, I rather liked the tail long," observed the man behind the desk, who she finally recognized as a dead ringer for one of the Beatles. "Not that it doesn't look brilliant short, I'm just saying."

Blinking, Illyana glanced over her shoulder at the tail she'd been sporting ever since her return, and smiled. Shorter by half, at least, and looking far more like the one she'd had in previous Darkchylde incarnations than the lizard-like monstrosity that had made sitting down impossible. She might just be able to pull this off after all.

"Okay, tell me what Pryde managed to get herself into this time," Illyana said as she planted herself awkwardly on the desktop beside Alison Blaire. Who, despite all evidence to the contrary, wasn't dead after all. "I swear, I die for a little while, and everything just goes to Hell."

Including her. But it was just possible there was still hope for her, too.

* * *

Pete wasn't entirely certain why Emma Frost had chosen Iceman of all people to help them with this particular mission. He knew him by reputation, of course, and as an Omega level mutant there were few, if any, limits to the sorts of things Drake could do with his powers. At least on paper. He didn't really look like much to Pete, and his powers weren't anything he would have immediately thought to look for when dealing with either Kitty's situation or the fifteen kilometer bullet she was inside. Still, the most powerful mutants who controlled metal were either depowered or lost in space at the moment, and any telekinetics worth bringing along were unavailable for similar reasons.

The way Drake was dressed wasn't exactly doing wonders for his confidence level either. The loose pants and red vest sans shirt made him look like he'd just stepped out of the Summer of Love or something. Worse, he couldn't tell if that was supposed to be his costume or the way he went about normally. It was making it pretty hard to take the idea of bringing him along seriously and damned if he could figure out what they were going to have him do once they reached Kitty.

It sounded like Emma had something specific in mind for that, though. Whatever it was, she seemed determined to keep it to herself for the moment. Given the way the two'd been trading insults back and forth, it was fairly obvious they had some kind of history together and not exactly the friendliest. As long as they were willing to put that aside when they got to work, he was willing to leave them to it. Same as he was ignoring Drake's request to pilot the ship. This wasn't some sort of joyride, and the only one Pete planned to let near the controls was John.

"Richards and Strange have been tracking the bullet since before it left the Solar System," Pete explained to the other two, reclining into the chair he'd taken. "But that stopped after the Skrulls invaded, so the last report's a bit out of date. It's been generally travelling in a straight line and at a consistent speed, however, so we have a fair idea where it should be."

Emma angled one pale brow at that remark. "Space is a very large place to be using terms like 'fair idea,' Mr. Wisdom," she stated, crossing one leg over the other.

The answering nod was slow and solemn as Pete said, "Agreed. It's only going to get worse the longer we wait, though."

"So, what are we waiting for?" Bobby asked, sounding as much curious as impatient.

"I mean – couldn't we just hash all this out on the ship? She's been gone over a month; it's probably going to take a while to catch up."

"Perhaps because we've yet to establish exactly how Mr. Wisdom plans to proceed?" Emma countered archly. "I rather think stealing the ship will be the least of our worries for this particular mission and would like to know what he intends to do once we have it."

Wisdom rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, and pulled another cigarette from his rapidly dwindling pack. Honestly, he'd thought his current team of agents had the market cornered on dysfunctionality, but he had to admit, the spandex set seemed to have the edge on the competition.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

"Well, if he'd just answer," Drake whined in response.

"Fine. We need to pick up the ship before we can get moving," Pete snapped as he lit his cigarette. Granted, it seemed as if he was whining specifically to annoy Frost, but it was getting on his nerves as well. "Sooner the two of you settle down, the sooner I can get things set up for that. Then…" He looked from one to the other to make sure he had their attention, "once John's gotten us past the Skrull blockade, we'll warp out there. The scout's sensors ought to be able to locate it from there." Pete shifted a bit in his seat to face Emma more directly. "That's where you come in. The bullet's still phased, so once we catch up with it we're going to phase inside the nosecone and you'll have to contact Kitty, get her to make the thing solid again so we can land."

"Whoa, time out. Time. Out." Bobby jumped in, making the universal hand signal for exactly what he'd just said. Once he was sure he had Pete and Emma's attention he continued. "I think you're forgetting something. If we go inside there, how are we supposed to get back out? I'm guessing it would be a bad idea to try to get Kitty to phase through any more of that metal once we save her. And how exactly are we getting her out anyway?" he added as almost an afterthought, his forehead furrowing. "Scott said she was probably bonded to the bullet or something."

Before Pete could make up an answer, the door suddenly swung open. As one, the room's occupants turned to see what it was, and as one their eyes each widened in surprise, Emma going so far as to gasp out loud before resuming her more typical blasé expression. In the doorway stood a young blonde with curved horns sprouting out of her head. She regarded them all with a wide, toothy smile that had a menacing, almost predatory aura about it. Behind her, Ali and John peeked over her shoulders with quiet curiosity.

"How about letting me take care of that," the new arrival said.

Pete blinked, having no idea who she was. Then he took in the horns, tail, and outfit she was wearing, figured they could only mean one thing, and gave voice to the thought before he could help it. "Bloody marvelous," he breathed, feeling a headache starting all of a sudden. "Nobody told me Tink had a sister."

Upon hearing that, Bobby's face want from slackjawed astonishment to snorting with amusement. "You call Colossus 'Tink?' Wisdom, just what were you two _doing_ in England? And does Kitty know?"

* * *

_God…_

Darkness cocooned her, cradled her in soft, black velvet. Held her like a lover; tugging, pulling her inexorably, tenaciously, back from the single, small pinpoint of light. That distant, dim flicker in the unrelieved blackness, hovering at the periphery of her consciousness.

It called to her, beckoning her with gentle, undeniable persistence.

Again and again, she stretched her fingers toward it, grasping. Reaching. Only to be pulled back down, wrapped in the dark as it reclaimed her, flowed over her like a warm, safe wave. Part of her welcomed it, wanted to let go and sink down into it. Just let it take her. It would be so easy…

But another part of her rebelled, pushed against the darkness and set its sights on that barely perceptible pinprick of brightness in the distance. Struggled and clawed her way determinedly upward, pushing toward the light. Reaching again.

Easy wasn't in her nature.

_Give me strength…_

Though she couldn't have said why, couldn't gather enough of the drifting, elusive wisps of her own thoughts to know, instinct gave her goal the weight of importance. Something…

There was something she needed to do, _had_ to…

With effort, gathering the waning vestiges of her stamina, she tried again. Pushing herself past the threshold of her limits, straining and clutching and finally…_finally_…brushing the edges of that faint illumination. Just barely, but it was enough.

Wide brown eyes fluttered open and Kitty gasped as the pain and nausea slammed into her again, flooding and igniting every nerve ending and making her stomach roil dangerously. Familiar, but that never seemed to make that initial rush any easier to take. No matter how many times she went through the cycle – the drifting into and out of consciousness, the struggle to surface again that seemed to be getting harder and harder – it always took her by surprise, the sheer force of it.

But it would pass. It always did. Closing her eyes again, for just a few seconds, she waited until it settled down into a dull ache, a sickly but manageable churning. How long this time?

No way to know. No way to tell. The smooth, unrelieved metal walls that were her prison gave no hint, and even if they had she wasn't sure she'd have been able to see it. Her movements were severely limited by her situation, but that was something she'd tried _very_ hard not to think too much about. What it meant, or might mean, to be so literally a part of this thing…

To _still_ be attached to it, and alive, which she hadn't expected; her powers seemingly switched to permanent 'on' in a way that felt far too familiar. Her stomach clenched and rolled dangerously again and she closed her eyes briefly, forcing those thoughts back into their box where they belonged.

"Emma_,"_ she tried again, hopefully, her voice hoarse and hardly above a whisper. Previous attempts had already told her what to expect, but there was always a chance. And she needed the distraction, brief as it might be. "Is anyone there?_"_

Nothing, but then she told herself she hadn't really expected anything different. She'd known the risks when she'd made her choice. Her life, in exchange for everyone else's. In exchange for an entire planet.

Kitty could only hope it hadn't been too little, too late.

She clung to that hope with single-minded determination. It was all she really had left and she wasn't ready to give it up. That wasn't something she'd ever been in the habit of doing, either. And, regardless of the odds against her, she wasn't about to start now.

Which meant she had to keep trying.

It was going to hurt like hell. That was something Kitty already knew far too well from previous experience, but she gritted her teeth and mustered every ounce of strength and will she possessed. Each time, there seemed to be a little less to draw from, but until there was nothing, she'd make use of what she had, pouring it into one single thought:

_Free_.

For a second, one single bright instant, she felt the alien metal holding her captive give. Just the tiniest bit. Felt the brush of air against her cheek as she _almost_ solidified. Pushed harder, until it felt like her veins would burst under the strain. Pulled and fought with every molecule of her being in a desperate attempt to disentangle what was _her_ from what was _it_.

Almost.

The span of a half a heartbeat, and she almost had it. She was almost there. Could feel the world around her go solid again.

_God…help me…_

Like a well run suddenly dry, her strength gave out, silent plea going unanswered. Unwilling to surrender, she fought to go on, struggling and pushing against the leaden fatigue. It was a losing battle.

Sagging limply, her eyes closed again and Kitty sank back into the dark as it rushed to reclaim her.


	2. Ship Stealing 101

Chapter Two: Ship Stealing 101

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4. Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it.

Now, on to the story.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Ship Stealing 101**

The stepping disk descended from mid-air in a bright arc of eldritch flame, gradually revealing the seven rescuers as it traced its way to the ground. For most of them it was their first encounter with Illyana's signature mode of transportation, but if the experience left any of them unnerved, the blonde sorceress couldn't tell. Instead they calmly took in their surroundings, some with curiosity and others with an air of purpose.

She could hardly believe that barely half an hour ago she'd been prepared to pluck Emma Frost's soul, such as it was, right out of the horrid woman. Instead, she was now actually going on a _mission_ with her. Not that she was all that sure what to think of the others on the team, either. The last she'd seen of Bobby he was helping X-Factor make mutantkind feel even _more_ like a hunted species, she didn't know anything about the guy who looked like a dead Beatle, and she was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the idea that the foul, lanky Englishman who stunk of cigarettes was an ex-boyfriend of Kitty's. If it weren't for the fact that Kitty's life was at stake she never would have considered working with this group. At least Ali was with them. It was nice to have at least _one_ person she knew and still trusted.

Or two, if she counted Lockheed. At the moment the little, purple dragon was curled around her neck, nostrils flared as he scanned the area with his beady eyes. Kitty's alien companion had stumbled across them in one of the halls just as they were getting ready. He always could sense when Kitty was in extreme danger, so it came as no surprise to Illyana that he'd found them, and as soon as she saw him she insisted on taking him along.

They hadn't even stuck around long for Cyclops to get back from his meeting with the Mayor of San Francisco, and Piotr was off somewhere in Russia of all places, with Logan and Kurt. Just keeping up with everything that had changed over the years was a challenge, but they were short on time to start the mission, and she'd spent most of the prep time having the others to fill her in on what had happened to Kitty. She could hardly believe some of the things they told about that, but if anyone had the bull-headedness to pull off the impossible in order to save the world at the very last second, it was her roomie.

Illyana lifted a hand to her shoulder and idly scratched behind one of Lockheed's tapered horns as she looked around. Flat countryside stood in sharp contrast to the crowded, hilly cityscape they'd been standing in only moments ago. To one side of them was a long, dusty runway which cut a straight path toward three large, nondescript buildings in the distance. On the other side was a row of hedges growing parallel to the runway and continuing on, vanishing in the distance in straight, rigid sentry. A cool breeze ruffled the trimmed landscape around them, bringing a slight shiver to Ali, who hugged herself and rubbed vigorously at her arms.

"Brrr. So much for soaking up that warm California sun," she breathed.

Bobby, who didn't look the least bit uncomfortable with the temperature, let out a soft chuckle. Smirking, he buffed his knuckles against his collar and said, "Is it cold? I hadn't noticed," which Ali very maturely responded to by sticking her tongue out at him.

"All right, keep it down, you lot," Wisdom told them as he waved everyone toward the hedges. Illyana noticed Ali's smile waver a bit as blue eyes flicked toward the guy and for a moment it almost seemed like she was about to toss off one of her signature quips, but instead she just fell silent, as if she wasn't sure what to say. Something similar had happened back in San Francisco when Wisdom first saw the former pop star walk into the White Queen's office, and they hadn't really said much to each other since. Apparently those two had some kind of history, but whatever it was, Ali hadn't said anything about it.

Illyana bit back the urge to ask. Now wasn't the time or the place, and she'd have plenty of time to catch up later, on the ship.

The tranquil silence around them made every noise, every word spoken seem just a little louder than they actually were. Night had long since fallen in this part of the world, the darkness made deeper by heavy clouds and a soft drizzle that was more mist than rain.

Illyana glanced at Bobby and in an almost-whisper asked, "Who put _him_ in charge, anyway?"

"Uh-_uh_," Ali replied with a quick shake of her head and an amused roll of her eyes that cut off whatever quip Bobby had poised himself to reply with. "We are _not_ having this conversation _again_. I saw enough of that with Excalibur to last me a lifetime." Yeah, there was definitely some kind of history there, Illyana decided. She really did have a lot to catch up on, it seemed.

Emma was not to be outdone in the eyerolling department as she moved to follow Wisdom toward the hedges. "Oh, let the man have his command," she chided. "I could use some entertainment before we get underway."

"He's not so bad once you get to know him," John said mildly.

"No," Ali replied with a quiet snort of amusement. Smiling wide, she added, "He's much, much worse."

Lockheed uncurled himself from around Illyana's neck and launched into the air with a few quick beats of his batlike, leathery wings. "Feh," he grunted, apparently expressing his own opinion of Wisdom before swooping off toward the buildings in the distance to explore.

"Gordon Bennett, did we have to bring the rat along?" Wisdom grumbled as he watched it flying away.

"Yes," Illyana said, eyes narrowing dangerously as she regarded Wisdom. "We did."

The surly Englishman raked his fingers through his mess of jet-black hair and shook his head in resignation. "Thing's going to be nothing but trouble," he predicted, but as far as Illyana was concerned, the words fell on deaf ears. If he had a problem with Kitty's dragon, that was just too bad for him.

"So where are we, anyway?" Bobby asked, letting his volume drop to match the others.

"This here's Upavon Airfield," Wisdom explained, letting his gaze sweep over everyone's faces. "England's very own Area 51."

Ali cocked a curious eyebrow and looked down the airstrip again. "Really? Doesn't look like much."

"That's the whole idea. No sense encouraging a bunch o' conspiracy theory crackpots like you Yanks have done. Those buildings over there are admin and HQ for the British Army. Most times the only things that actually fly around here are gliders. About ten meters below us, though, is a top secret facility that serves as MI-13's central complex for all things Easy Tiger."

"What the hell is 'Easy Tiger'?" Illyana asked, scrunching up her face in confusion.

Emma gave both Illyana and Wisdom a disdainful look. "I suspect it's code among the espionage community for aliens," she said in a bored voice. "Tepid longhand for 'E.T.' if my guess is correct." She watched as Wisdom arched an eyebrow at her and gave him an icy smile of superiority. "Intelligence is more than just an occupation, Agent Wisdom. It should hardly come as a surprise when some of us choose to use it," the former White Queen told him in a way that made her sound entirely too pleased with herself. "Those of us who _can_, at least."

Illyana's lips curled into a snarl and her eyes began to glow bright red as she prepared to let the wicked cow know exactly what she thought of that remark. Before she could act on that thought, Ali quickly gave the demon sorceress' shoulder a tiny pat and turned a wry grin toward her. Once she had her attention, Ali jerked her head slightly in Emma's direction and rolled her eyes again. It wasn't much, but it did help her tamp down the urge to lash out at Emma. Illyana was still scowling a bit, but her eyes returned to their normal shade.

Maybe she'd just keep her option open on Emma's soul. It was obvious she wasn't using it, anyway.

"So this is where you guys do alien autopsies and stuff?" Bobby asked curiously.

Wisdom's expression darkened almost instantly. "Not bloody likely," he said with a glower. "Kitty and I turned _that_ place into a crater years ago, and the last thing I'm going to allow is another one to start up." Mention of Kitty seemed to bring them back to the reason they were here, and everyone's faces sobered a bit as they automatically shifted into a loose, impromptu huddle. Wisdom made eye contact with each of them in turn and said, "Now this is what you need to know about the place:

"Near as we can tell the ship we're taking has a few modifications built in that protect it some from magic. The Skrulls here were attacking Avalon, so it seems they took a few precautions. That might help deal with whatever's protecting that bullet or it might make things harder. There's no real way of knowing until we get to it."

The others nodded their understanding. Illyana's lips thinned into a thoughtful frown at the information, but she remained silent.

"We can worry about that later if we have to," Wisdom continued. "What we have to concern ourselves with now is the fact that the place is pretty much swarming with guards. Every one of them is highly trained, hand-picked by yours truly and set up with the best equipment money can buy."

Oh, sure. Make it sound _hard_. Illyana's face split into a quiet grin that was as much anticipation as amusement. She noticed the others were wearing similar smiles. Yeah, this wasn't exactly going to be a challenge, but it might be fun at least. Looking back at Wisdom, she noticed he was watching all of them with a knowing expression. A moment later, he too grinned.

"So try not to embarrass them too much, yeah?"

* * *

Sneaking into the underground facility went much smoother than Bobby expected and he had to admit, to himself, at least, that Wisdom definitely knew his way around the place. They had already reached the main floor of the complex and not a single guard, lock or security device had so much as slowed them down yet. The youngest member of the original X-Men was starting to wonder if Pete had exaggerated his claims that the place was on high alert just to keep them all quiet. It seemed like the sort of thing the surly spy would do.

Not that he would have been all _that_ noisy anyway. He'd snuck into enough government sites, alien outposts and villain's lairs over the years to know the drill. Everyone else was proceeding with equal caution, moving through the eerily silent hall on soft feet or, in Illyana's case, hooves. They'd hardly spoken a word between them since breaking in, not that they really _could_ say anything with Ali absorbing all the sound they were producing.

Of course, with Emma linking them all telepathically, they didn't really _have_ to.

"_We're here_." Pete's steps began to slow as they neared a set of large double doors made of reinforced steel. He stopped at the keypad next to the door and withdrew a long, slender plastic card that resembled stick of chewing gum with a black strip at one end. He carefully pressed it into an ordinary sized cardslot and pressed a quick sequence of numbers until the red light above the pad changed to a steady green. "_Sorted_," his voice announced in everyone's minds as the doors slid into the wall with barely a whisper of sound.

The air was different inside the large, underground hangar, a bit cooler and the slightest bit stale. Large ventilation shafts mounted at various points above their heads idled with a low drone as they awaited the next day's shift of crew and scientists. The six rescuers filed through the doorway, taking slow steps into the dim light as they took in their surroundings. Crates, monitoring equipment and light machinery ringed them, but the Skrull ship dominating the center of the room easily drew everyone's attention.

Mounted atop a low platform that was more like a stairstep, the brownish alien craft was roughly the size of a small whale, shaped almost like a butter dish with finlike plates lining each side. Aside from two massive jet vanes in the rear the ship was totally self enclosed, without so much as a single window even for the pilot to look through. The thick metal encasing it like an armadillo was scorched and dented all about, but the damage appeared mostly cosmetic. Repairs had long since dealt with anything that might have compromised the integrity of the ship.

Floor lights circling the platform cast a soft glow around the ship and was the only source of illumination in the otherwise darkened room. "_This_ is what we're rescuing Kitty in?" Bobby said out loud, voice low but his skepticism clear enough for the others to pick up.

"No, this is just the one-third scale model we show the tourists," Pete answered in a snide whisper. "It may not look like much, but the _Lamprey_ is our best shot of getting to her. More importantly, it's the only way we stand a chance of getting through the Skrull blockade without getting shot at."

Ali made a little face at the mention of the ship's name. "'Lamprey?' Ugh, can't we call it something else?" she asked.

"Sure, whatever you like," Pete said with a dismissive wave, expression once again growing serious and apparently not noticing the broad grin that blossomed across Ali's face at his invitation. Bobby wondered if he had any the idea what kind of opening he'd just given the mutant disco diva. If so, he gave no sign as he led the others closer to the ship and added, "There's an observation room behind that large window on the other side of the room. That's where the controls are to open the hatch and raise the platform to the launch bay above."

Bobby squinted as he peered around the ship to where Pete was indicating. Sure enough, there was the distinct reflection of glass, but he could barely see it, let alone whatever was inside. "Isn't there a light switch around here we can flip?" he asked.

"The lights are motion sensitive," Pete said, looking from the shaft above the ship to the ceiling around it. "They should have turned on by themselves as soon as we walked in." The dark haired Englishman's posture became tense as he turned a suspicious look toward the shadows.

"Good thing you brought me along, then," Ali said with a smile as her whole body lit up and the hangar fell under the steady radiance she was emitting. And as a bonus, the sudden increase in visibility revealed that they weren't alone.

"Hold it right there!" a commanding voice hollered, and everyone's eyes narrowed tensely as they found themselves surrounded on all sides by nearly two dozen guards with guns trained on them. They were wearing uniforms of dark khaki reinforced with grey body armor and their weapons looked like a streamlined cross between a rifle and a bazooka. Firm helmets with protective goggles adorned their heads, with a small commlink device projecting from the side toward their mouths. They stood in a loose circle formation and looked like they were prepared to open fire at the slightest excuse.

"I knew this was going too easy," Bobby sighed.

Pete raised placating hands in front of him and affected a crooked smile. "Easy, lads, no need to get excited, yeah?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the commander said, approaching them cautiously. "I'm going to have to ask you to allow us to escort you to a detainment room for the attempted theft of Crown property." He reached them and began to reach for Bobby's arm. "Where you will be held until such time as-" The guard paused as his hand passed right through Bobby. "What in-?" reversing direction, his hand once again went through his arm as if it were no more solid than a cloud.

A volatile curse followed as realization dawned on the commander. "It's a hologram!" he called out. "Spread out! They must be nearby!"

"Right above you, mate," Pete said as another of Illyana's stepping disks appeared over their heads and dropped his team into the midst of the surprised soldiers.

Bobby jumped right into action, crouching down as he generated a toboggan slide of bluish ice that sent him zipping around the hangar quicker than any of the guards could train their weapons on him. "Freeze!" one of them said as he approached a pair, both scrambling to raise their guns toward him.

"Guys, guys," Bobby said with a shake of his head as a jet of freezing slush shot from his outstretched hand toward them. "Please consider who you're talking to before you say things like that." Before they could fire their rifles Bobby encased the weapons from barrel to trigger in blocks of solid ice that ensured they wouldn't be used any time soon. The guards nearly dropped them under the added weight, and as Bobby streaked past them he decided to root their feet to the floor by wrapping their legs in twin pillars of ice, just for good measure.

"I mean, really. It's embarrassing."

* * *

Emma Frost landed on the ground in a manner befitting her middle name and in a blink chose her targets. She walked toward them with a polished air of bored superiority that would have made any Renaissance noble green with envy, looking down her nose at the guards with such disdain they may as well have been no more than gnats perched on her jewel-encrusted Philip Stein wristwatch.

The soldiers were to be commended for their professionalism and resolve. The former White Queen was generous enough to concede at least _that_ much, but certainly not out loud. After dealing with the buffoons Shaw liked to hire and march around in body armor, she had learned to become discriminating in her opinion of hired enforces. Nonetheless, they hardly merited a challenge, and she didn't even flinch as the soldiers shouted a single warning and then proceeded to open fire, bullets ricocheting harmlessly off of her diamond body while she approached.

They quickly switched to pulse bursts, which radiated from the lower barrel with an ominous hiss before they struck with the force of a brick wall. Wisdom hadn't exaggerated when he said they were well equipped. The impact was enough to send her staggering a step or two back, but she recovered quickly and pushed through the barrage with nominal effort.

"Don't bother attempting to use your telepathy," one of the guards warned as she drew closer. "Our helmets shield us from anything you might try to do to our heads."

A cold smile grew on her lips as she suddenly increased her speed and swung an arm out, catching the soldier next to him in the chest and sending him sailing into the far wall, striking it with a nasty sounding thump before he dropped back to the ground in a stunned heap. "A pity, then, that I have none while in my diamond form," she remarked casually.

Whirling on another solder, she grabbed his rifle and snapped it like a twig between her hands before casting it aside and smacking him away with an idle backhand. He quickly joined the other soldier lying motionless on the ground. Emma turned back toward the guard who had spoken, driving both elbows into another who tried to rush her from behind, and before he could even gasp in surprise, lanced her hand out and seized him by the throat. "As for how well your helmet protects you from whatever I might do to your head," she added, thumping him with her fist hard enough to leave a dent in his helmet. "Let's test that, shall we?" The man's eyes rolled back into his head as he sagged into her. "As I suspected," she said, dropping him at her feet.

Taking the opportunity to glance about the room, Emma rolled her sparkling eyes and sighed at the antics going on about her. Robert was still riding his ice slide around the room as he played for fools any soldier who tried to stop him. His style had never been quite the same since he saw _Disney's Tarzan_, and her efforts to point out how ridiculous he looked had done little to persuade him to abandon it. At the other side of the hangar Alison and Illyana were casually walking toward the observation room, protected by the former pop singer's shield of solid light and chatting away like two girls at a slumber party. Any moment now Emma expected them to start doing each others' hair.

At least Wisdom and John appeared to be taking things with the proper amount of seriousness. The idea that she might be the only one who wasn't treating this battle like some delightful lark would have been too distasteful to bear otherwise. There was nothing to be done, she supposed, and permitting herself another roll of her eyes, Emma walked toward another cluster of guards to pummel them as she had the others.

It was a banal way to do battle, she supposed, but offered a small amount of satisfaction all the same.

* * *

All around the hangar, soldiers scrambled in what was quickly becoming an exercise in futility. Their ambush had completely fallen apart, and strength of numbers wasn't helping them recover enough to pin the mutants down in the slightest. Every guard that wasn't already out of the battle had their full attention on the five mutants. Save one. The lone guard had his weapon raised, but seemed to pay the battle itself no mind as he took slow, measured steps around the edge of the chamber.

John suppressed the urge to sigh in resignation as he gradually worked his way toward the _Lamprey_, trying his best to look perfectly natural in the process. Pete's dramatic entrance had provided exactly the sort of distraction the Skrull needed to slip in through the door without anyone noticing. Now he just had to trust the guards wouldn't pay any mind to one of their own wandering around during all the excitement. So far the plan was working out rather well, actually.

Still, it was a shame the way things always seemed to come down to violence, John mused. For once it would have been nice to resolve their differences with a few polite words over a nice cuppa. He supposed that option went away the moment it became obvious they'd have to use force to get the ship rather than a proper request. He couldn't help wishing it could be different, though. Peace was more his style, even if he rarely got to put it into practice. That was why Pete was in charge and not him, though.

Noting with approval that Illyana and Ali had made it into the observation room, John kept up his cautious circuit toward the craft. His pace picked up a bit after he passed the forklift, encouraged by how close he'd already gotten. His teammates might have been having more fun with all this than he would have, but he couldn't deny they were doing a great job keeping the heat off of him.

A few moments later he crossed the hangar floor and reached his goal. Reaching out, he traced the palm of his hand along the smooth metal surface; almost a caress but there was no affection at all in his touch. He'd meant what he said when he told Pete that it had been a while since he'd flown something like this, and a lot had changed in the fleet since then, but what he was looking for should still be somewhere…

A faint click, barely audible, and John smiled in quiet satisfaction as he felt the panel give a bit. Just as he'd thought. He pressed harder and a small wedge of the hull collapsed inward, revealing a touchpad of buttons along the inside edge. Glancing over the glowing blue symbols, John located the one he needed and tapped it once with his finger. Instantly a soft hiss answered him as the seal along the ramp gave and allowed it to unfold. A few seconds later the ship was ready to board.

He was just about to head up the ramp when he felt a rifle barrel press up against his head. That was all the incentive he needed, and he froze in place with nothing more than a sigh of resignation. "That's far enough, John," one of the guards said, nudging the rifle a little more.

"Easy, now," John said, holding his pose and his form. "No need for that, mate. We're both on the same side."

"Shut it, you filthy Skrull. Let's see those hands."

John moved slowly, lifting his arms as if he were swimming through mud. "All, right, then. If it's like that." He didn't flinch at the insult. He'd heard plenty worse at the start of the invasion, when the fanatics from his homeland decided he and the others were too much of a threat since they'd thrown in with the humans. Losing Paul, George and Ringo. _That_ was what stung.

"Too bad you didn't die with all the others. I knew you'd eventually betray us you green sack of-"

A heavy thump interrupted the rest of what he had to say, quickly followed by another, softer impact as the guard fell to the ground in a heap. John turned around to see Pete behind him, holding the butt end of another rifle at the ready. "Consider yourself sacked, toerag," the dark-haired Brit growled at the unconscious soldier.

"Thanks, Pete," John smiled, shifting back into his regular guise. "I owe you another one."

Pete waved the comment away. "Just get her ready, yeah? We'll need to hit the air as soon as this gets to ground level."

"Done and done," John said, leaving Pete behind as he climbed up the ramp and made for the cockpit. He might be out of practice, but the humans had an expression about riding a bike that he figured would serve just as well in this case. Eventually, he'd get it all figured out.

* * *

As soon as John was out of sight Pete folded his arms and leaned casually against the side of the alien spacecraft so he could enjoy the show more comfortably. No reason not to, since the others had things well in hand from what he could see. Drake and Frost were practically dancing on the heads of his men, which was part of the plan, of course, but they could have at least made it _look_ like they putting some effort into it.

Instead he had Frost making no secret of just how tiresome she was finding the whole thing as she used her diamond form to beat on each guard who crossed her path, and Drake looking more like he was riding a wave in some surfing competition than fighting trained soldiers. If those two could afford to be that casual about the whole thing, it meant there were some serious gaps in his men's training. He may have set them up for an ambush, but they still should have shown a better performance than this in the surly Brit's opinion.

These days one had to be prepared for the occasional assault from costumed maniacs with superpowers, after all. Pete made a note to step up their readiness when he got back from this mission. Assuming he still had a job when he got back. He shrugged that concern aside, though. This wasn't the first time he'd stolen or destroyed Crown property. Running off with a captured spacecraft was a new one for him, he'd admit, so there was still a chance they'd raise a fuss about it.

If he was feeling a bit disappointed in how the security staff was doing, however, the same could not be said of what he'd seen so far of his rescue team. For a group thrown together practically on impulse, they were working out rather nicely so far. Even his doubts about Drake were proving less of a concern as he took note of how easily he was dodging his guards while rendering their rifles useless. Pete still wasn't sure what it was, exactly, that Frost had in mind by insisting that they bring him along, but it was fairly obvious she wasn't just looking for someone to feel superior to.

Pete was shaken from his observations as one of the guards suddenly decided to take a shot at him. Crouching low, he brought up one arm and instantly a glowing disk of pure heat materialized in front of him, vaporizing the bullets on contact. "You damage this ship with that thing and I'll have you strung up by your own guts!" Pete growled harshly at him. The reprimand seemed to take the guard by surprise, causing him to fumble with his rifle a moment as he tried to change the setting, but a moment later a multicolored laser blasted it completely out of his hand.

Sure enough, Ali was standing in the doorway to the observation room, a cheeky smile on her face as she glanced over at Pete. Reflex had him offering her a wry smirk in return even as an attack of nerves made his stomach tighten just a twinge. It had been that way since she decided she was coming along and he didn't expect that to change any time soon. Out of all of them, she was the one he knew the best thanks to their time in Excalibur together.

That was part of the trouble, though, and he hoped he wasn't making a mistake bringing her along. Not that he'd have been able to keep her out of this anyway, and he wasn't exactly known for making the _safe_ choice. They had a job to do, and as long as he kept his mind on that it'd be better for everyone.

A grinding sound from high overhead caught Pete's attention, and he tilted his head back to peer up through the shaft cut through the earth above him. Sure enough, the hatch began to open, twin plates sliding apart like eyelids, little bits of dirt raining down as the gap spread. A moment later the platform jerked into motion and began a slow rise toward the runway above. Rasputin's little sister hadn't taken long to figure out the controls, it seemed.

Sure enough, a moment later she emerged from the doorway, announcing, "All done!" in a perky voice that seemed strangely out of place with her demonic visage.

"Nice work, kiddo," Ali said, face brightening as she led the blonde girl toward the slowly rising ship. The sounds of battle in the hangar were becoming more sporadic, and Pete hadn't heard a single round of gunfire since the hatch began to open. "Now we can get back to discussing your new costume."

Illyana suddenly looked uncomfortable, but followed alongside Ali without missing a beat. "Look, not that I don't appreciate the suggestions, but I'm not sure I'm ready to design a new suit quite yet." Looking down toward her hooves, she added, "It's kinda hard to make anything work with these legs, y'know?"

Ali waved the concern aside. "Pfft, just let me worry about that. We've gotta do something about _this_, though." The former pop singer gestured toward what Illyana was wearing. "Seriously. You look like Xena: Warrior Princess."

"Who?" Illyana asked quizzically.

"Wow, you really have been gone a while, haven't you?"

Pete resisted the urge to slap his palm against his forehead and resolved to jump out an airlock if they went on like that the entire time they were out in space. "Are you going climb on board or-" Two guards who had been lying nearby dragged themselves back to their feet and rushed the women from behind. "Ali, behind you!" Pete yelled, readying a volley of hot knives.

Ali was already turning toward them, however, as was Illyana. "I _see_ them, Pete," Ali said, a staff of solid light appearing in her hands. "What, did you think I was just gonna let them sneak up on me?" She was wearing the same sort of crooked smile Pete knew meant trouble as she advanced on the unarmed soldiers.

"I'll handle them," Illyana said, springing ahead of Ali and practically hurling herself at the men. Pete saw her eyes blaze red as she spoke and he got ready to leap off the platform, because whatever she had in mind couldn't be good. Sure enough, a second before contact she enveloped herself and the two guards in one of her stepping disks, only to emerge an instant later from another one.

Illyana looked rather proud of herself, standing tall and at ease, but the soldiers were falling over each other, casting wild eyes all about the room and nearly gibbering in fear. Their helmets were a mess of broken plates and there were deep claw marks all about their armor.

"Illyana!" Ali said as the soldiers scrambled to get away from the girl. "What did you _do_?"

"Nothing much," she said with a negligent shrug. "Just let them spend ten minutes in Limbo."

Pete ground his teeth together at the admission. "I told you to sodding take it easy on them, Rasputin! Not scar them for life!"

Illyana rolled her eyes, craning her neck to look at him directly as the platform continued to rise. "I _did_ go easy on them," she informed him in an exasperated voice. "I didn't _leave_ them there."

The dark-haired spy could see she meant it, too, which didn't make him any happier with what she'd done. Scowling with distaste, he filed that away as something to discuss with her later and called out to everyone, "All right you lot, enough playing around. It's time to leave." As if to punctuate his point the Skrull ship seemed to come to life, the engines building a sharp, steady hum behind him.

"Already on our way," Drake said, letting his ice slide rise to the platform as it carried himself and Frost up. A moment later Ali and Illyana appeared next to him, courtesy of another stepping disk.

Ushering them toward the ramp, Pete said, "Well, go on, then. Find yourselves a seat and strap yourselves in. We're taking off as soon as we're topside."

Frost and Drake were already climbing aboard the _Lamprey_ when the platform suddenly jerked to a halt. "What the hell?" Pete said. They were less than three meters from the shaft cut into the ceiling.

"It wasn't me," Illyana disclaimed. "I did exactly what you said."

"That's quite far enough, Pete," a voice called from below. Peering over the edge of the platform, Pete groaned in frustration as his eyes fell upon the calm form of Dr. Alistaire Stuart watching him from near the main doors. The man looked far too frail for someone his age, hair thin and flesh pulled slack against his bones. He'd never really been the same since Black Air made him a target, and he'd taken to wearing his authority like a protective cloak and his mistrust of MI-13 put him at odds with Pete more often than it didn't.

Pete glowered at Alistaire and said, "This is a private cruise, Stuart. Invitation only and you're not on the list."

"You should have thought about that before you left that 'anonymous' tip about tonight. Did you honestly think we wouldn't trace it back to you?"

Shrugging, Pete gave Illyana and Ali a slight, encouraging nod as they finished climbing up the ramp and then turned a steely gaze back to Alistaire. "If you knew I was involved than you know why I'm doing this," he retorted in an even voice.

Alistaire sighed, but refused to budge. "This is a fool's quest, Pete. Nobody's sure if she's even alive."

"You can give up on her if you like," Pete spat. "We're going." That was the one possibility he flatly refused to discuss. He'd already heard enough doubt on that score from the very people most active in trying to save her. As far as he was concerned, as long as the bullet was still phased, there was still hope.

"And let you hand that ship back to the Skrulls? You won't even get past their blockade."

Pete's eyes flicked toward the observation room for just a moment, but long enough for Alistaire to catch.

"Don't bother, Pete," Alistaire warned. "This entire room is on remote override. The only direction that ship is going is-" Before he could finish the platform suddenly began to rise again. "What in-?"

As if in answer to his unfinished question, Lockheed soared into the room, a pair of torn cables clutched in his rear paws. The purple dragon swooped low, forcing Alistaire to duck to avoid him, and dropped his prize near the man's feet before gliding up to the ship and vanishing through the entryway with a disgusted snort.

"What he said," Pete told Alistaire, presenting him with a hand gesture that would have been a peace sign if he'd held it the other direction. Running up the ramp, had just enough time to see the once-boyish scientist shouting into his communicator before the platform rose past the ceiling and continued its journey up the shaft. Pete leapt into his seat next to John and said, "Seal it up."

John gave Pete a smirk, eyes twinkling behind his round glasses as he said, "Bit of luck bringing the dragon along, innit?" A quick press of a button to his left and the ramp swung closed behind them.

"Don't rub it in," the dark-haired man grumbled. He looked back to the rear of the craft where the others were and called, "Everyone hang on to your seats."

Bobby's voice answered back. "How soon before this reaches the top?"

"We're not waiting for that," Pete said and then turned back to John as he reached for the straps connected to his chair. "Bring up an overhead display."

The screen in front of them blinked to life and showed the sky above, as if looking up from the bottom of a well. A moment later the plates of the hatch began to slowly slide shut. "Just as I thought," Pete said as he finished tightening his belt. "Can you make it?"

"Won't know until I try," John answered as he began moving his hands over the controls in an almost blur. The ship rattled a bit as it began to hover above the platform and then tilt forward. "Oops." Moving his hands the other direction, the ship reversed, the nose angling toward the sky. "Still getting used to this one," John chuckled apologetically.

"Just hurry," Pete said, loosening his tie as he watched the gap continue to dwindle above them.

John tapped his fingers against the armrest, face calm and relaxed. "Can't rush this, mate. These things are sensitive."

"Are you a pilot or a bloody horse whisperer?" came Pete's tense reply. "Go!"

"Gone," John answered, and the abrupt rush of speed pressed Pete firmly into his seat as the ship vaulted toward the sky. "This is gonna be tight…"

A second later the slender craft shot through the opening, fins grazing the plates as they continued their inexorable progress toward each other. As soon as it was clear they were through Pete let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well, that's sorted, then," he said in a relieved voice. "Slow down a bit."

"You sure?" John asked. "We'll have the RAF coming for us next, you know."

"Exactly," Pete said, loosening his tie and reaching into his shirt pocket. He jerked his head forward slightly. "Those tossers up there need to see us getting chased," he explained. "Otherwise…" he let one eyebrow climb toward his hairline and left the rest unspoken.

John gave him a nod of understanding. "Nobody but us Skrulls, off to rejoin the fleet," he said. "One thing, though."

"What's that?" Pete asked as he leaned back in his seat.

Nudging his chin toward the pack of cigarettes Pete had just withdrawn, John said, "No smoking in space."


	3. Catching Up

Chapter Three: Catching Up

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4. Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it.

Now, on to the story.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Catching Up**

"So, it just didn't work out," Ali was saying, the shrug of her shoulders brushing off any lingering sentiment that might have existed. "You know how it goes - sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. This time it didn't, so I came back to see just how bored you all were without me."

Illyana watched as Bobby nodded, eyes dropping and face sobering for a moment. There was a story there, she knew - probably something to do with Lorna Dane, with whom if memory served he'd been entangled several times, and never in a way that ended happily for him. She wasn't sure if that's what it was, though, or if something else entirely was behind his silent reflection. Being dead managed to put a serious kink in your ability to keep up with the gossip circuit.

She was working on that. Now that they were on their way to actually _do_ something (and only Emma's stern reminder that 'porting into a phased bullet probably wouldn't do wonders for the rescue effort had kept her from taking off on her own while they others sat around and planned), she'd managed to more or less settle down in her seat, her twitching tail the only outward sign of her impatience. For now, though, there wasn't much to do except listen, and try to fill in the gaps between where her memory stopped and began once more.

A lot had happened while she'd been gone, it seemed. Hardly a surprise, she guessed, given how long it had been. No more New Mutants, Warlock dead, her former teammates scattered, Dani depowered, Emma Frost hooked up with Cyclops – she was having a hard time processing it all, even ignoring the revelation that Piotr and Kitty were once again dating.

Or had been. She supposed that was sort of on hold, considering the X-Men had let Kitty be shot off into space.

"_Are you planning to participate in the conversation_?" a voice said inside her head. "_It would seem you'd have quite a bit to share yourself, given your extended absence_."

Illyana sent a glare in Emma's direction, her eyes sparking as she took on the other woman's calmly dangerous expression. Apparently the inability of telepaths to read her mind was yet one more thing that had changed since she'd died and returned. "_Get out of my head, Frost_."

"_How can I when you're practically broadcasting, my dear? Besides, we have so much to discuss, you and I. Including your future intentions toward my former students. I notice you haven't brought yourself to inquire as to how Megan is coping with your last misguided attempt to...what was it, exactly, you were attempting again?_"

Illyana ignored the leading question and shifted her eyes toward the wall. Not so much because she was annoyed with Emma for having asked it, though she was, but because she honestly wasn't sure anymore.

It had made sense at the time. Use Pixie's soul, seeing as her own was lost, to create a new soul sword. Nevermind that magic didn't work that way, nevermind that her own blade had been as much affirmation of her intent as it had been a weapon in and of itself. Nevermind that she knew, deep down where her soul had once been, that to destroy Belasco was to destroy herself…

Emma sniffed aloud, and Yana's eyes darted back toward her.

"_Melodramatic as always. But it may relieve you to know that she's doing well, nonetheless_."

Thank whatever power for good in the universe that probably wouldn't acknowledge her existence for that. Illyana sighed and settled back in her seat, cursing they way her misshapen legs wouldn't allow her to pull them up so she could brood properly. At least with the monstrous tail resized, she could sit. It was scant consolation.

"_How could you let this happen_?" she thought, changing the subject and trusting that Emma was still lurking around somewhere in her mind. If the former headmistress of the Massachusetts Academy wanted to place blame, she was more than willing to counter with some of her own. "_Drake said you're running the team these days, with Scott. You should've done something to stop this. Or was this another one of your games? You always hated her_."

Much to her surprise, Emma's uncaring expression broke a little, her lips setting in a tight line that for once had little to do with anger. "_I didn't. And I…tried. I did everything I could, but ultimately, she wasn't able to phase back through. It was her choice_…"

"Like hell," Illyana said aloud, eyes glowing as her hooves hit the metal floor with an echoing crash. Only belatedly did she realize she'd interrupted whatever conversation Alison and Bobby had been having, and that they were now staring at her, eyes wide with worry.

She didn't care.

"You should've done _something_!" Illyana shouted. "You may have the rest of them fooled, but I know you, Frost. You're up to something. What is it? The Hellfire Club? The Hellions? Or was this just some new plot to get rid of Kitty? It's not like it would be the first time."

"The Hellions are dead," Bobby interrupted softly, standing up and moving between her and Emma as if throwing his body into the breach. "Emma wasn't responsible, either," he added quickly to forestall any accusations when Yana opened her mouth, but this time, she had no intention of immediately confronting the White Queen. Instead, she was staring in sheer disbelief.

Tarot, Catseye, Jetstream…dead? She hadn't liked most of them, and she hadn't so much as thought of them since she'd returned, but…she'd known them. Not long ago, by her personal chronometer, she'd fought with them, and trained with them during the New Mutants brief sojourn at the Academy. Gone to dances with them, messed with Empath's head after the crap he'd done to Tom and Sharon…

"_You'll note I didn't bring that up_," Emma said coolly in her head, but Ilyana could sense the quaver in the White Queen's mental voice as she met her eyes. Apparently even the implacable White Queen had her regrets.

It was about time.

"Just stay out of my way," she said aloud, brushing off the hand Bobby extended to stop her. Enough of this. Whether Emma felt bad about what had happened to Kitty or the Hellions or not, she couldn't be trusted. Past experience had taught her that much and she wasn't about to revise her opinion now, with Kitty stuck out in space, alone. "I'll be watching you. And if anything goes wrong, or I find out you're responsible for any of this…" She let the threat hang and headed toward the front of the craft where the alien Beatle and Pete Wisdom were sitting, but Emma's reply followed her.

"_You won't need to bother. I'll do it myself_."

Illyana let out a snort as she stepped into the cockpit. She'd believe that when she saw it.

Neither of them men turned at the sound of her approach, apparently entranced by whatever it was they were seeing through the front sensors. Illyana opened her mouth to demand explanations of just what they'd been thinking bringing Emma Frost along on this trip, then closed it as she realized exactly what they were staring at.

Ships. There was a virtual battalion of ships in the sky before them, and craning her head just confirmed that it extended to all sides for as far as the sensors could read.

"So, think we can just blow through it?" Pete asked the pilot quietly, his voice gruff.

"If you want to be blown to bits, sure. Otherwise no."

"Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."

"What are those?" Illyana asked, staring at the sight before her. There was just no rhyme or reason to the battalion; they seemed to be of every model imaginable, as if a few dozen sci-fi films had coughed up all their designs, assembled them, and stuck them out in space.

"That," Wisdom said as he turned to look at her with an impatient expression, "would be the Skrull invasion fleet. Who are-"

"Hailing," the John Lennon look-alike said as he flipped one of a few million switches on the console. "I'm going to try to bluff my way through, like."

"Is there any chance of that working?" Illyana asked Pete in a whisper as static began emanating from the console.

"Don't know till we try, do we?" he snapped, then waved for her to be quiet and turned back to the console.

It wasn't a great time for an argument, Illyana decided, and settled for leaning back against the wall of the cockpit to watch.

"Unidentified vessel," a voice slurred over the intercom. "You have ten seconds to give your authorization code."

"Now wait a minute!" the John Lennon wantabe protested, fingers flying over the controls even as he stared at the screen. "It's been a long and winding road getting here, and my codes are all dated. You've gotta give me more time than that."

"Eight seconds."

Illyana watched as the Skrull Beatle flipped frantically through a beat up manual before tossing it aside. Right. Not going to work. She prepared to summon a stepping disk, and then paused as she heard a faint hum that grew exponentially louder each second.

"Hold off there, mate. I don't have codes. Hurry to join back up with the fleet and all that, you know? But you've got to have my id. I'm John, of the Skrull Beatles."

"John was reported executed as a traitor to the Empire during the invasion of Avalon. Provide the authorization code or prepare to be terminated."

"Not true! All an act," John said in a rush as he fiddled with buttons on the console, peering over the top of his glasses at some indicator she couldn't quite see and wouldn't have been able to identify if she could. "We were under cover, like. All walrus mode, you dig? Special orders and all, top secret hush-hush."

"Two seconds."

"Gordon Bennett," Wisdom muttered, and turned toward the pilot as the humming sound grew exponentially louder. "You gonna take us out of here, or wait until we've been fried?"

"Going and gone," John retorted, a dreamy smile forming on his face as he pressed a button and the Skrull armada disappeared in a rainbow of color. "I AM the Walrus!" He turned back toward her and smiled. "Care to find a free corner to occupy until we rejoin the universe, beautiful? Seems there should be celebrating, and I'm decades over Boko."

Illyana let out a snort, but felt her face grow warm as she turned back to Pete. "How long until we're there?" she asked, trying to maintain her composure.

"Hour, maybe two. That what you came up here for?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She opened her mouth to say no, it wasn't. She'd wanted to toss Emma out whatever airlock the ship might have, to hear her beg for mercy that wouldn't be granted, to demand Pete explain why they were trusting someone who'd betrayed them so many times.

Instead, she nodded and settled back against the wall to watch the streams of color whiz past on the display. Maybe she knew the answer after all. The White Queen's soul might be stained black from everything she'd done, but at least she had one, which was more than she could say for herself. And they'd trusted her to come along, too.

"_Has it ever occurred to you, my dear, that someone who'd lost their soul utterly would hardly miss it?"_ Emma's voice intruded in her mind, its tone tinged with sadness and a touch of exasperation. _"Perhaps you're not so far gone as you'd care to think."_

"_And what, you know this from personal experience?"_ Illyana tossed back irritably, her eyes rolling.

"_Why yes, actually. I do."_

Illyana opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again and closed her eyes. Much though she hated to admit it, Emma just might.

* * *

"They found something!" Illyana said, eyes bright with excitement as she rushed into the passenger bay. Ali paused mid-sentence from her conversation with Bobby to glance up at the girl as she stood in the door hatch, hands bracing her against the frame as she leaned forward. If it weren't for the legs, horns and tail she would have looked like an ordinary teenager who'd just won tickets to see her favorite band play in concert. Not that Ali could blame her. They'd all been waiting for _any_ bit of news since they came back out of hyperspace, and this sounded like it was the good kind.

Beaming back at her, Ali pushed herself off of her seat and said, "Took them long enough. Let's go find out what it is."

Lockheed was already flying past her and over Illyana's head. The little guy was quick, that was for sure. Ali could have sworn he'd been taking a nap in the corner the last time she looked his way. Bobby and Emma also rose to their feet and moved to follow.

"Yes, let's all try to squeeze our way into the cockpit," Emma observed drily as the rush became something of a logjam at the door hatch. "It being such a spacious compartment."

"If it can fit your ego, it can fit all of us," Illyana tossed over her shoulder. Ali and Bobby tried unsuccessfully to disguise their tiny snorts of laughter while they shifted into a semblance of single file and climbed the rest of the way to where they could join Pete and John.

It _was_ standing room only by the time Emma joined them, but Ali took it in stride. Compared to the average mosh pit this was nothing, after all. Besides, everyone's attention was on the viewscreen in front of them, rather than each other.

The rectangular holographic display showed the misty blackness of space peppered with the tiny dots of stars in the distance. It was hardly _empty_ space, however. A long trail of broken asteroids bisected the view like, well, a bunch of big rocks all in a line, really.

"Lovely," Emma said archly as she glanced at Illyana. "Thank you, Ms. Rasputin, for calling us back here to engage in pointless sightseeing."

Illyana glared back at the imperious blonde woman. "I can arrange for a _closer_ view if you'd prefer," she said in a sweet voice that was about as genuine as those 'Pradas' some jerk tried to sell Ali the last time she was in New York.

"Stow it, you two," Pete said before either of them could argue any further. "Look over there." His finger pointed toward a spot in the belt that seemed to be shy an asteroid or twenty. The viewscreen zoomed closer, and sure enough, there was a definite gap there.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ali said, placing one hand on Pete's shoulder and leaning in for a better view. She thought she felt him tense a bit under her fingers, but when she glanced over at him, he looked perfectly relaxed and all business.

Giving her a nod, he said, "It's about the right size. And there's more. John, show them."

The image zoomed in even further, centering on the break in the belt, until it filled the screen. At first it looked like the same thing, just closer, until Ali realized there was a second, smaller stream of rocks, some no more than specks of dust, drifting away from the rest and vanishing into the distance. "It's a trail," Ali breathed.

"And it should lead us right to her," John said.

"So does that mean the bullet's solid again?" Bobby asked with a hint of concern.

Pete's lips thinned for a moment before he said, "Long enough to bust up those asteroids. Past that we can't be sure, yeah?" His voice was too firm and decisive for the last part to be a question, and it wasn't too hard for Ali to figure out why. If Kitty had managed to unphase the bullet, even for a moment, it was a good sign. If it had _stayed_ solid, well, it could mean several _more_ things, some of them very bad.

"Do we know how far away she is?" Ali asked, as much to change the subject as out of any real curiosity.

John continued to work his fingers over the console in front of him even as he glanced over at her. "Not yet, luv, but I've already got the long range sensors working on it." He looked back at the viewscreen, where a stream of words in the jagged Skrull language scrolled along the bottom. "There shouldn't be any trouble catching up to her once we…" the alien pilot's voice trailed off as he read the next few lines. He adjusted his glasses as if that would somehow change the words displayed in front of him and in a deceptively neutral voice uttered a simple, "Ah."

The others seemed to freeze at the sound of that one, ominous word. "Don't you _dare_ leave it at that," Emma warned menacingly.

For once everyone seemed to be in agreement with the White Queen as they all looked at John with expressions ranging from concerned to mutinous. "Let's hear it, John," Pete told him.

"I've been plotting out the bullet's course based on our current position and its probable speed and trajectory, given the dispersement of those asteroids it hit," John explained as the viewscreen became a grid of green lights with a small yellow dot shaped like the bullet in the center. The grid quickly zoomed out to reveal a stellar chart, with a series of thin orbit trails contouring their way toward a central star. "This here's the Tamabouki system. Used to be part of the Empire, but the natives were deemed too troublesome to keep, it being so far to the fringes."

The dotted line that progressed its way ahead of where the bullet was on the grid told the rest of the story.

Pete's eyes grew wide and he muttered a soft curse under his breath. Ali couldn't blame him, and was halfway tempted to say a few choice words herself. "I don't _believe_ it," he groaned, raking one hand through his ebony hair. "Are you telling me this thing's on a direct path to hit another planet just like it almost did Earth?"

"Not directly, no," the Beatle lookalike answered nonchalantly, cocking his head to the side as he gave the matter some consideration. He held up his hands and moved them as if spreading apart a curtain and said, "If my calculations are right it's just going to graze it some. Which will probably shear a few thousand square miles off the surface, ignite the atmosphere, throw it off its axis and send it spiraling into that there gas giant it's orbiting."

For a moment all anyone could do was stare at him.

"Yeah…" Ali finally said when she picked her jaw back up from the floor. "That would be a very _bad_ thing."

Pete shook his head and rubbed at his temples as if fighting a sudden migraine. "Right, then. Let's hope it want take long to find her. This rescue mission just got put on a deadline."

* * *

The rattle of asteroids slamming into the hull was distracting at best, and Emma signed as she lost her concentration yet again. Honestly, one would think that the Skrull flying the ship would be able to avoid a little debris, even if it were that very debris which was indicating the course the bullet had taken.

It was a good sign, she assured herself as she brushed lint from her pants. For the bullet to have burst through an asteroid field and picked up a trail, Katherine must have solidified at least briefly. It spoke well for her mental state, her stamina, her strength of will…

Unfortunately, given that her efforts to contact Katherine since they'd emerged from hyperspace had been unsuccessful, her attempts to reassure herself weren't entirely successful.

It was, of course, too much to ask that her companions in this venture assume some measure of sensitivity and cease their non-stop prattling. But no. Alison and Robert seemed to have determined it an appropriate time to compare their recent misadventures and to attempt (with increasingly nonsensical results) to rationalize Illyana's return from the dead.

As if no one had foreseen that since the time of her initial disappearance. The discrepancies in the events of what had hence come to be referred to as Inferno had been too numerous even to be explained away as magic. Emma was more surprised that it had taken so long for the annoying child to reappear than she was that she'd done so at all.

She cast her thoughts outward once more, past those of her shipmates, and met only the deafening silence of space. Too far away still, perhaps, to contact Katherine's mind.

The alternative, that there was no longer any Katherine to contact, was something she refused to consider.

Glancing up, she caught Pete Wisdom's inquisitive look and gave her head a nearly imperceptible shake. A sharp intake of breath from her left confirmed that Illyana had caught the gesture as well, and she turned to give the former New Mutant a look far softer than her norm.

"Too far, still," she lied.

The girl apparently accepted that explanation and returned to her incessant brooding, and Emma rolled her eyes internally as she attempted to dismiss her from her mind once more.

It proved somewhat easier said than done. Magik had been her student once, however reluctantly. The fact that appearances suggested she'd ultimately succumbed to her darker side wasn't something Emma was proud of, though there was a time she might have considered it a success. Moreover, the girl's continual self-loathing nagged at the edges of her mind at a time when she most needed every bit of optimism she could summon.

She'd failed Illyana, just as she'd failed her other students, time and time again. She wasn't going to repeat the trend with Katherine. Not if there were anything she or anyone else who'd joined the rescue effort could conceivably do about it.

Robert, she knew, was the key. She sent a discrete glance in his direction. As usual, he seemed inappropriately cheerful for the situation, though she knew him well enough to realize that the humor was more a defense mechanism than it was an honest pre-disposition. Still…so much pure ability, wrapped in so unsuitable a package.

It had surprised her, earlier, when he'd thrown himself into the gap between herself and Illyana. In retrospect, she supposed it shouldn't have. It was that very tendency to defend those he perceived as helpless that she was counting on when they found Katherine. In his own defense, he would never dream of doing what was going to be required of him. In someone else's, though…

Well, if his continued support and defense of Lorna during her most recent bout of insanity didn't prove the lengths to which he would go to help a "damsel in distress", she didn't know what would.

Still, there was a risk. If he stopped chattering long enough to wonder just how they were going to extract Katherine, he might realize she had something in mind, even though she rather doubted he'd be able to discern precisely what. The last thing she needed at this stage was him balking at what he would need to do, though if that came to pass she supposed she could simply take control of his mind and force him to act appropriately.

Still, she'd expended considerable time and effort in attempts to bolster the boy's self-confidence. It would be far better for him to make the choice himself, even if she had to tweak the circumstances to ensure that he did.

Bracing herself for yet another failure, Emma reached out through the vastness of space, and gasped softly as her mind brushed over another consciousness. It was tentative, at best, but she latched onto the contact, fingers clenching in the edge of her plastic seat as she strained to increase the connection, even as she simultaneously reached out for Robert's mind and made other preparations.

"_It's Emma, Katherine. Can you hear me?"_


	4. Solid

Chapter Four: Solid

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4. Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it. Reviews are always welcome. We'd love to know what you think of the story!

Now, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Solid**

This time, it wasn't the light that pulled her up, tugged her out of the well of darkness that was dragging her determinedly deeper with each passing cycle. This time, it was something else.

It was a soft, nagging tap, like the insistent patter of rain on a rooftop; an annoyingly persistent whisper that poked at her consciousness with light but unrelenting fingers. In her mind, in those half-formed, restless dreams, Kitty tried to wave it away, tried to shake her head in denial and burrow under the covers. In her dream, she frowned, and the frown creased her forehead in reality to match.

Too early.

So tired…

"…not time…go back to sleep…" The words were barely mumbled in raspy, unconscious irritation as she stubbornly clung to her shifting dream-memories, even as they slipped away like sand through grasping fingers. They had a long way to go, and a lot to do when they got there. They'd need what rest they could get now. Who knew what they'd find when they got to Breakworld and their course was set?

In her experience, nothing good ever came of unexpected trips into space.

"…_Emma, Katherine…" _

Frown deepening, the darkness receded a little more, unwillingly, and Kitty moaned as she vacillated between trying to clear the cobwebs from her sluggish thoughts - to separate what was real from the disjointed dreamscape clouding her vision - and the oh-so-tempting desire to sink back into oblivion. Words and images floated in and out of focus; sharpening, blurring, receding – then repeating the pattern again.

Ord. Space. Breakworld. Peter.

Emma…

"…_hear me…"_

The fog parted and the sickening burst of pain followed a second later, before she was awake enough to expect it and brace for it. If her fingers could've spasmed and clenched in reflex, they would've, but that was impossible in her current state. But it didn't keep them from trying, or for every muscle to wind itself tight in recoil as she ground her teeth together and did the only thing she could; wait for it to pass, sweat beading her brow and dripping down her face.

It took a lifetime.

"Emma?" She could barely hear her own voice, broken and hoarse from disuse, but Kitty hardly noticed. Focusing her concentration inward, she held her breath and waited. A hallucination, maybe? God knew, it wouldn't be the first time, she'd heard that voice often enough in the last while. Usually, though, she wasn't awake, this time the brunette was pretty sure she was. She hurt too much not to be.

"_I'm here, Kitty. I hear you." _Until that second, when the voice of the White Queen echoed unmistakably in her head again, Kitty hadn't realized quite how much she'd expected it not to be real. Her breath left her in a rush of relief that was as involuntary as it was genuine as her eyes slip closed and she sagged against the cold metal floor. Real. Real and close.

"_It's about time. This ride's getting pretty boring."_ Despite not having the first clue just how much time she was talking about, her lips curved up sardonically as the retort flitted through her head. Some habits died hard, and some didn't die at all, no matter what the circumstances. Her reward was a fleeting hint of impatient, unwilling amusement from the other end of the connection, tinged with something else. Something she couldn't identify before it disappeared again.

"_Do forgive us for not adhering to your timetable," _came the typically cool, unruffled reply. _"Feel free to lodge a formal complaint when we're back on earth. I'm sure Scott would enjoy the additional paperwork."_

A soft snort of laughter escaped, as much from the still almost overwhelming relief as any actual amusement. It was that or burst into tears and she didn't think either of them wanted to deal with that.

"_Don't tempt me, I just might." _The reply was obligatory, a stall as Kitty took a deep breath, counted to ten, and exhaled again slowly. She reined in her roiling emotions as best she could. As…almost comforting as the traditional banter was, there were other issues. Questions she wanted to ask, things she needed to know. "_So, everyone's all right, then? I…it worked?"_

"_Yes. It worked."_ Emma's reply was simple and unembellished, and Kitty sighed again, muscles unknotting despite the pain that was still her constant companion. _"You saved the day, the planet is all in one piece, everyone's fine, and we'd all appreciate it if you stopped careening about the galaxy. You've proven your point. Now, it's time to come home."_

The words shimmered in her mind, delivered in the White Queen's clipped, impatient, 'this is my will and I will brook no argument' note of authority. It made Kitty smile again, a little, despite knowing it wouldn't be that easy. If it was possible at all.

"_Peter's ok?"_ she couldn't help asking, mental voice soft and holding her breath again in anticipation of the answer, and wondering if the telepath would tell her the truth if he wasn't. _"Is he there?"_

There was a small hesitation, less than a heartbeat, but Kitty would've sworn her heart sank into her stomach.

"_Peter's perfectly well, but he's elsewhere at the moment."_

The matter-of-fact words were as much disappointment as a relief. Emma didn't have to explain why they hadn't brought him, not that Kitty would've expected her to anyway. She already knew the reason.

"_If you're anxious to be reunited, then I suggest you get on with the business of unphasing things so we can retrieve you."_

Sudden trepidation washed over her, and her teeth tugged agitatedly at her lower lip, _"I'm not sure I can. Emma…"_

"_It's a little late to again bore me with claims of what you can't do, Katherine," _the other woman interrupted with the mental equivalent of waving a dismissive hand at her protests. _"I've never taken you for giving up so easily, but I'm beginning to wonder…"_

"_Emma, I've been __**trying**__," _she mentally ground out in reply, cutting her off as her irritation flared to match her unease. _"I don't think you understand. I've been trying, and I can't. I'm…there's a problem."_

"_You can. And you will." _

There was firm, calm determination behind the words, and what felt like an unmistakable touch of encouragement, but that didn't make them any less irritating. Emma wasn't listening. Which, overall, wasn't new or a surprise. Kitty clenched her jaw and tried again.

"_It won't do any good! I'm telling you, you don't-"_

"_Kitty." _The White Queen interrupted her again, mental voice steely and commanding. The brunette could practically feel those ice blue eyes boring into her. _"Do it. Now. Or I'll simply assume control of your mind and prove you wrong by doing it myself."_

She wouldn't. She couldn't. Knowing that, however, did absolutely nothing to stem the sharp flare of anger that surged at the threat. _"Just try it."_

It was practically a growl, both in her head and in reality, as she braced herself again, struggled to drag up every single ounce of energy she had, and _pushed_; feeling the buzz of power at the base of her skull. Feeling the world around her give, in a way that was utterly indescribable, but that was as familiar and welcome as an old friend.

"_You can, Kitty. You are." _The encouragement, unaccountably soft and supporting and utterly-un-Emma-like, rang in her head, sounding far away and nearly obscured by the loud buzzing in her skull. She latched onto it, though, clung to it like a lifeline.

Smooth, alien metal solidified under her torso, against her legs, around her arms, over her hands….

And the sudden, searing, blinding pain hit her with the force of a sledgehammer, ripping her apart from the inside out, or so it seemed. _"Oh, god…I can't!"_

Whether the scream was just in her head or aloud, or both, she couldn't have said, but she felt it slipping away from her, that fingernail hold of control. Panicking, gasping for air and trying to push through what felt like a tidal wave of white hot agony, she clutched at it, trying to pull it back to her.

"_You can! Don't you dare stop now!"_

But it was too late, and it slid away from her, inch by inch, pain and fear slicing at her tenuous hold. There was _so much_ metal, and unphasing herself meant unphasing the entire bullet, whether she liked it or not. There was no going halfway with this. _"I. __**Can't!**__"_

Sagging against the metal and gasping for air, nerves raw and muscles aching from the strain, she swallowed the lump in her throat, picture forming in her mind, piece by careful piece. It was a picture of herself, her hands and part of her legs, a section of her torso, even strands of her hair, melded to the alien metal interior of the giant bullet from Breakworld. Not just contained by it, but _part _of it. Inextricably woven into its fabric, as it was woven into hers. All ephemeral. Untouchable.

Insubstantial as smoke.

This picture, she shared with Emma as she softly, defeatedly repeated, _"I can't…"_

It had her in its grip, and it wasn't going to let her go without more of a fight than she had the physical resources to provide.

* * *

Back on the Skrull vessel, Emma opened her eyes and blinked blearily at the rest of the team, who'd apparently noticed something was amiss and gathered around her, expectant looks on their faces.

"I've found her," she said shakily as her mind began analyzing the mental image that Katherine had transmitted. "She's alive, and apparently in relatively good humor, given the circumstances. She complained that we're late for rendezvous."

She watched as the others relaxed, Illyana unwinding from the ball she'd practically curled herself into, Wisdom's shoulders reassuming their habitual slouch, Alison letting out a sigh of relief and stretching out in her seat. Only Robert was studying her face as if seeing something there that the others weren't.

At times, the boy was too insightful for his own good. Emma pointedly ignored his eyes and pretended to turn her attention to Wisdom as he began speaking, her mind focused inward. Katherine was, in fact, bonded to the bullet, and apparently panicking at the thought of unphasing the sheer mass of it. Not especially surprising, given the circumstances. Fortunately, her contingency plan should accommodate that…

"Hope you told her she shouldn't be hitching rides on strange space bullets to begin with," Wisdom was observing drily as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket only to have it plucked from his fingers and broken in half by Illyana.

"We are _not_ rescuing Kitty just to give her lung cancer from secondhand smoke," she insisted with a wry smile as she handed him back the pieces.

"Are you talking to her now?" Robert asked, raising his eyebrows, apparently having come upon an explanation for her silence. "If you are, tell her the Cubs beat the Mets and I owe her a cheeseburger when we get back."

Yes, this would work very well. "_Tell her yourself," _she replied as she pulled at both his consciousness and Katherine's, pushing them into the astral plane and leaving a portion of her own to monitor the situation. "_She'll need to unphase the bullet. You'll know what to do once she does."_

Ignoring Robert's last plea for explanation, she turned to look at the others. "It shouldn't be long," she assured them as she folded her hands in her lap. "She's just going to need to summon up the strength to render the bullet tangible."

"What's wrong with Drake?" Wisdom asked, narrowing his eyes as he jerked his head toward the suddenly immobile Iceman.

"Why, nothing," Emma assured him. "He's just fulfilling his role on the mission. Once he's done with the first portion, we'll proceed. Ms. Rasputin, if you'd gather a few blankets, we'll be ready to go shortly."

"Blankets?" she asked with obvious confusion. "Why would we need –"

"I expect," Emma replied, giving her a pointed look designed to discourage further questions, "that Katherine will be rather…chilly, after her ordeal. Better to be prepared than not."

Wisdom seemed unimpressed by her explanation, but Emma turned to stare out the window, apparently oblivious as she focused in on the "chat room" of her creation. Hopefully for once, Robert would step up and show some more definite indication of the potential she'd always believed he held.

* * *

His mouth was still open to demand an explanation when Bobby came to the sudden realization that he was no longer inside the Skrull spacecraft.

Emma's work. It had to be, given the lack of a stopover in hell that would've heralded an actual physical change of location. Bobby rolled his eyes. Just once, he wished she'd actually _explain_ what she was going to do before she did it.

"Noooo, that'd be too easy," he grumbled aloud, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sudden change in illumination. He seemed to be inside some sort of giant, metal building with walls that curved into a ceiling he couldn't quite see.

"Is someone there?" a voice called out weakly.

Oh god, she'd meant it literally when she'd said to tell Kitty about the baseball game himself…

"Nope," he replied, forcing a smile as he walked toward a still figure lying on the ground not far away. "I'm an optical illusion."

"Except I can't see you," she pointed out as she lifted her head off the floor a little, then let out a disgusted sigh and let it drop back to the floor. "Any chance you could move over to the other side and then tell me what's going on? I'm sort of stuck."

Frowning, Bobby walked around her and crouched down at her side. "Stuck how?" he asked, then inhaled sharply when he realized just what she'd meant. Hands, arms, legs…all of them seemed to be composed of the same metal as the bullet, distinguishable only by contour and a sort of imperfect junction between the affected and unaffected portions of her body.

He swallowed hard as he awkwardly crouched down beside her, only belatedly remembering to force a smile as his eyes met hers.

Too late. Kitty smiled crookedly, shoulders shrugging a mere fraction as her eyes met his. "Emma didn't tell you, huh?"

Bobby shook his head and tossed her a crooked grin in response. "Does she ever?"

"Good point. So, did she send you to tell me it's a lost cause?"

Her tone was sarcastic, but her teeth were tugging at her lip, and when Bobby met her eyes he could see a very real fear there that Emma'd done just that, lessened only slightly when he shook his head and smiled reassuringly.

"Nah. Actually, she sent me to tell you I owe you a cheeseburger." He wrinkled his nose playfully, then grinned. "The Cubs beat the Mets, 7 to 2."

Kitty laughed. "Told you they would. They've got their best line-up of the last twenty years."

"Which means what, exactly?" he tossed back with a mischievous grin. Calm her down, Emma had said. Well, if trading insults about baseball teams did the trick, he could handle that.

For now, he was just going to ignore the rest of Emma's cryptic message. Calming Kitty down would be a whole lot more difficult if he were panicking himself, and he had the feeling that whatever Emma had in mind, it would likely be panic-inducing. He could always count on her for that.

Meanwhile, Kitty had lifted her head a little and was attempting to glare up at him. Some of her hair was entrapped in the floor as well, which explained the difficulty she'd had turning her head. He felt his stomach sink. Not so long ago, his greatest fear had been freezing solid and finding himself unable to move. Being stuck like this for a month, careening through space as part of an alien bullet…

It was a wonder she was sane at all. He could pretty much guarantee he wouldn't have been.

"Y'know, if I could move…" she warned.

"You'd be punching me," he finished for her, forcing an impudent grin as he shifted a little, then shrugged and stretched out on his side about a foot away from her, propping his head with his hand. "There, now you can glare easier, at least. Maybe it'll make up for not being able to see how easily I bruise."

She chuckled a little, then smiled crookedly and settled her head back down on the floor. "Thanks. God, who'd have thought it'd come to this, huh?"

"What? Being forced to listen to my bad jokes?" Bobby feigned an injured look and signed dramatically. "I'm so unappreciated. And after I came all this way, too."

Kitty grimaced and rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She sighed and let her eyes drift half shut for a moment, then reopened them. "Where are we, astral plane?"

Bobby shrugged a little and smiled apologetically. "Not sure, but that'd be my guess. It sounds like something Emma'd come up with. You'd think she could've given us a better locale while she was at it, hey? A tropical beach or something?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice." She sighed and closed her eyes again, but smiled a little. "Thanks for coming, even if it's going to end up being a wasted trip."

"Hey, none of that," he protested, reaching over without thinking to rest his hand on her shoulder. "I'm just here for the company while the brains come up with a plan."

Only belatedly, when Kitty startled a little and then let out a soft curse as the motion was abruptly arrested, did he realize that his hand hadn't passed through her body. Had to be the astral plane, then. Encouraged, he rubbed her shoulder gently, and smiled as she settled back down and relaxed.

"Who's all here?" she asked softly. "And what kind of plan do they have?"

Bobby shrugged and smiled crookedly. "Like they tell me anything? But let's see. We have the head of a British Intelligence agency, an irritating telepath, a former superstar, a dragon, a Skrull who's doing a damn good impression of a dead Beatle, and a demon sorceress." He ticked them off one by one on her shoulder, then grinned as she smiled.

"Pete. Emma. Ali. Lockheed." She frowned a little and shook her head, almost imperceptivity. "Drawing a blank on the Skrull. Amanda?" she asked, reopening her eyes a little and looking curious.

Bobby shook his head and grinned. "Nope. Change your mental image and include horns and hooves."

The next smile was more genuine, even though she let her eyes drift shut once more. "Illyana. God, I was hoping she'd come home when I saw her in Limbo. It'd be nice to see her again."

Bobby smiled and stroked her shoulder gently. "Well, I'm sure Emma's got her standing by to 'port in as soon as the Giant Bullet of Doom is solid," he assured her. "She's providing both inbound and outbound transportation."

Kitty grimaced, then reopened her eyes. "Bobby…I can't. I tried." She gestured toward her hands with her chin. "I'm literally fused to the damn thing. I can't solidify without solidifying _it_, and there's just too much of it. And even if I did…" her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

Bobby nodded, frowning. Even if she did, she'd still be attached to it. It was the reason Scott had cited for not acting sooner, the reason everyone had been afraid to take overt action against the bullet once it moved past the Earth. Anything that would blow it up would likely kill Kitty as well. He ran through the ship's complement in his mind, trying to think of something, anything, that could pry Kitty out of the bullet's hull, and drew a blank. Lorna and Rachel were off in space, Magneto was depowered, Jean dead, no one had heard from Mikhail Rasputin in ages. It was odd that Emma, at least, hadn't thought ahead to dealing with this possibility…

Bobby's face paled as he realized just why Emma had sent him here to talk to Kitty. "_You're an evil bitch, Emma," _he observed silently, and was unsurprised when he heard her laugh in response.

"_Why, Robert. You always say the sweetest things. Are you finally ready to think outside the box?"_

"_I could __**kill**__ her,"_ he shot back. He'd pulled the stunt himself, yes. But soloing was a far cry from doing it with a passenger, and he wasn't even sure it was possible. _"Is that what you want?"_

Emma, unsurprisingly, ignored the last question entirely. _"The potential is there, as your alternates from other realities have demonstrated. And as you yourself acknowledged, it's not as if there are other options. Or are you willing to leave her like this, alone, forever?"_

"Are you okay?" he heard Kitty ask, and only belatedly realized he'd closed his eyes. He reopened them to see her looking at him with concern, shoulder tensing as if she were trying to move her arm toward him, only to have the movement arrested partway.

No, he couldn't. Damn Emma, anyway.

"Just fine," he assured her with a crooked smile, then gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Think you could manage to solidify for a few seconds if I could promise you a trip home?"

* * *

They were up to something.

More correctly, Emma was up to something, Kitty suspected, though she also figured that was a given with the White Queen in just about any situation. This time, however, whatever Emma was up to had Bobby zoning out, going pale as the proverbial ghost, and looking a little like someone had just told him he was due for an extended stay on the surface of the nearest red giant, don't forget to pack the sunscreen.

So, whatever Emma had in mind, it was either a last ditch effort or…

Well, she already knew the score, better than any of them. The chances of her getting out of this one were slim to non-existent, and neither his reassurances nor the familiar, crooked smile was doing very much to change her opinion on that one. It was nice of him to try to keep up the brave front, the idea that there was something he, or any of them, could do to get her out of this mess, even if she could get this entire hunk of metal solid again.

Kitty, however, had her own, grave doubts on that matter and she wondered if it wouldn't be easier for all of them if they'd just acknowledge the truth of the situation. Even on the astral plane – which is about the only place they could be at the moment, all things considered - she was pretty hopelessly stuck. But the company was nice while it lasted.

"We've already been over this, Bobby," Kitty reminded him softly, shaking her head and meeting his eyes. Then sighing in frustration as she tried to move her hand up to cover his, only to be rudely reminded that wasn't a possibility. "I…it's just too much. I shouldn't have been able to do it in the first place, and even if I _could_ get it solid again, even for a few seconds, there's still…"

Trailing off, her eyes drooped down pointedly toward the obvious problem they'd still be up against, even if she somehow survived getting this whole damn thing solidified. If she couldn't extract herself, it wasn't likely any of them could manage it, unless the Skrull they had with them knew more tricks than what she remembered that particular alien race having up their sleeve.

"How could you-"

His hand squeezed her shoulder again and, despite looking as nervous as she felt, Bobby was still wearing that crooked smile as he tipped her chin up, meeting her eyes.

"Trust me?"

For the span of what could've only been a few seconds, but felt like much, much longer, Kitty searched his face, taking in the nervously hopeful look as his brows inched up questioningly. The flicker of fear in the depths of his eyes that he was trying very, very hard to hide behind a light air of forced confidence. A million and one questions flashed through her head, curiosity mixed with trepidation urging them to the tip of her tongue. But she bit them all back.

He'd asked for her trust, and he already had that. Even without asking. And what did she really have to lose?

Taking a deep breath and managing a weary but genuine smile, Kitty nodded. "All right, I'll give it another try, but even if I can, I'll probably only hold it a few seconds. And," Pausing, her teeth tugged briefly at her lower lip again, "it won't be easy."

It was the only way she could think of to warn him without going into the gory details that neither of them probably wanted to deal with, and Bobby's slightly pained expression, accompanied by a reluctant nod a second later as that sunk in, told her he'd understood. Once again, his hand tightened on her shoulder, palm rubbing with gentle reassurance.

"You can do it," he assured her, or himself, or maybe both of them. Kitty thought it was probably the latter as his slightly-forced, good natured smile made its return appearance. "It's just a big hunk of metal, right? What's that compared to dealing with Emma every day?"

Her chuckle at that was more out of nervous reflex than anything, but he did have a point and she managed a semblance of a teasing grin. "That's a really sneaky way to win an argument," she protested, "except it makes staying in the bullet look not so bad, really."

Laughing a little wryly, Bobby's smile went slightly lopsided. "Yeah, good point, just forget that part of the pep talk, maybe? How about, if you don't, then you forfeit that cheeseburger?"

As motivations went, it actually wasn't bad and, for the first time she could remember lately, her stomach gave a soft rumble of agreement that she really did need to collect the winnings of that particular bet.

"Oh, no. No way you're welshing on that one. The Cubs won fair and square. I want onion rings, too," she added as an afterthought, giving him a challenging look as he considered it, chuckled, and nodded.

"It's a deal. I'll even throw in a coke." And, with that concession, there wasn't really anything else to do but…do it. Taking a shaky breath, smile thinning, Kitty nodded as she met Bobby's sympathetic, concerned gaze. "But, Kitty?"

Slowly, his smile faded around the edges and the nerves she knew he'd been trying to hide swam to the surface as he searched her eyes with his own brown ones. "I…you need to know. I've never done this before, not with a passenger." His hand tightened marginally on her shoulder, his expression betraying his own uncertainty. "I don't know…"

She stopped him with a nod of understanding, still wearing that tight smile she knew was probably more than a little wry. "It's ok." Voice dropping softly she glanced down at herself again, then back up at him, wishing once more she had at least one hand free. Just to make a little much needed contact of her own. "Anything's better than this. And if I can do it, then so can you."

What it was he was going to do, exactly, Kitty still wasn't sure, and at this point she didn't want or need to know. Not the details. Bobby's powers weren't something she was intimately familiar with, but she knew enough to know they could do a lot more than was obvious. And, like she'd noted before, Emma was up to something. Whatever it was, she'd better know what she was doing.

Getting Bobby hurt in some near-hopeless, last ditch effort to save her wasn't something she wanted to contemplate.

"Here goes nothing." Before she could change her mind, meeting his eyes again briefly before closing her own, Kitty concentrated on drawing up the last of her energy reserves. It probably wasn't going to be nearly enough, but it was all or nothing, so it might as well be all.

The one advantage she had now was being ready for it, having time to steel herself against the sheer enormity of the effort that felt like it should tear her in half before she even started. And she used every, single ounce of that internal fortification as she dug in her proverbial heels, clenched her jaw and threw everything that she had, and possibly then some, at one seemingly-simple idea.

Not free, this time, but _Solid_.

All the mental preparation in the world didn't lessen the strain, like a crushing weight settling onto her, grinding her down, pushing her under. But she grit her teeth harder, ground them together, and pushed back at the massive burden, refusing to let it overwhelm her. It hurt like hell, like falling into the flaming heart of the sun, and she bit back a hoarse cry, the sound coming out more a guttural growl as sweat beaded her brow, stung her eyes as it seeped even through her tightly closed eyelids.

Too much. Too much, too big, too tired…

Even with her eyes tightly closed, the edges of her perceptions grayed and darkened. Losing it. She was going to lose it, and there was nothing she could do. She couldn't _do_ this. It was _too much._

Her hold slipped, just a fraction, and she thought she was going to lose it, felt the panic well up…and then Bobby's hand was there, covering her own at the spot it merged with the metal of the floor, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Bringing her back from the edge of panic, grounding her, giving her something to hold onto. Something to reach for.

_Solid._

Like breaking through an invisible barrier and into fresh air, she crossed the threshold, felt everything around her tremble, or maybe it was just her. No way to know, no way to tell. Every muscle in her body was straining, knotting, _holding_…

Breath bursting from her lungs in a rush, she gasped for air, straining with everything she had as the world around her went completely, blessedly tangible at last. Opening her eyes, she looked up to meet Bobby's, managing one word through still gritted teeth.

"Hurry."


	5. Pushing the Limits

Chapter 5: Pushing the Limits

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4. Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it. Reviews are always welcome. We'd love to know what you think of the story!

Now, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Pushing the Limits**

It had grown quiet inside the passenger bay as they waited for some word on how Kitty was doing. It was all Pete could do not to get up and start pacing around, or light up a cigarette, but every time his fingers so much as twitched toward his shirt pocket Illyana shot him a glare. He could tell something was up the moment Drake's face had shifted into a deep, worried frown, but Frost had airily sidestepped every demand for an explanation, and now even she had fallen completely silent as she followed Kitty's latest struggle to solidify herself.

"She's done it," Emma suddenly said, face not even changing expression. Everyone else, however, permitted themselves a relieved smile toward each other. Including him. Not that he'd had any doubts that Pryde could, if she got stubborn enough, but it was a relief to hear it confirmed. "Teleport us over, Ms. Rasputin."

Illyana's eyes flicked over toward Drake, who was still sitting with a vapid expression. "Shouldn't we tell Bobby first?" she asked.

"I'll make certain he knows when it's appropriate. Now do please hurry. We haven't got much time."

Despite the crispness of Frost's voice, Illyana gave no further protest. Instead, she looked over at Pete and Ali and said, "We'll be back before you know it," and with that, vanished along with Drake and Frost in another of her signature stepping circles.

Pete wished it were that simple. Frost still hadn't told him what part she had in mind for Drake in all this, and he had a strong suspicion it wasn't something he'd like if he knew. Whatever it was she wanted him to do was likely to be dangerous, and it didn't sit well with him to just wait around helplessly while Kitty's life hung in the balance.

"You're pacing," Ali informed him, and he paused as he felt her hand gently catch him by his own.

The lanky Brit looked down at himself in an almost daze. "Hadn't even realized I'd gotten up," he mused.

"She'll be okay," Ali assured him, giving his hand the tiniest squeeze, which he returned without even thinking about it.

"I know," he admitted. "It's just quiet, yeah? I hate when things are quiet."

As if that were some sort of invitation, John suddenly called back to them from the cockpit. "Pete, you might want to come have a look at this."

There was a serious edge to John's voice, and Pete knew he wouldn't have interrupted at a time like this unless it was important, so the chain-smoking spy stepped into the cockpit. A moment later Ali joined him, peering curiously at the viewscreen. "What's up, John?" Pete asked.

"Seems we've acquired an audience," he informed them, inclining his head toward the viewscreen. Sure enough, there was a massive fleet of oddly shaped spacecraft in the distance heading toward them. Their hulls were a heavy grey color that would have blended into the darkness of space around them were it not for the array of lights ringing each one, giving them the appearance of ghostly vessels sailing a haunted sea.

"I'll say," Ali remarked. "And me without my microphone."

"These the Tamabouki you mentioned?" Pete asked in a grim voice.

John gave a slight nod. "They are indeed. And they're hailing us."

"Right. Let's say hello, then."

Nodding again, the Skrull Beatle moved his hands over the controls and the viewscreen changed to an interior display of the bridge of what seemed to be a very large command ship, based on the number of crew arranged within his range of sight.

Whatever Pete had been expecting the Tamabouki to look like, this wasn't it. They were a wispy, thin people, and their yellow-on-white military uniforms only enhanced that aspect about them. Their skin was a leafy green and their heads seemed to grow right out of their shoulders as if God had forgotten to give them necks. Only their mouths and solid black eyes made it clear where it began. Instead of hair, a layered crown of darker green skin topped their heads in a way that reminded Pete of the sort of things his Mum would pile on his plate when he was a lad and tell him horrible lies about how they were good for him.

"Wait, seriously?" Ali whispered with an incredulous snort. "These are them?"

"What were you expecting? Sleestacks?" Pete whispered back before motioning for John to get on with answering their call.

"'Ello, there," John said with his friendliest smile. "No need to bring everyone out, mate. We're just passing through."

The alien in the center of the display, their Captain from the looks of it, did not appear pleased with the greeting. It raised its slender, ropelike arms and crossed them in front of itself. "Unidentified Skrull vessel," he said, though it was difficult to tell if the Captain was male or female, and its mouth unhinged as it spoke in a way that was unnervingly similar to that one Muppet that was always helping the crazy doctor. "We are the Tamabouki Naval Forces and you are trespassing in our system. Our orders are to eliminate the Breakworld missile as soon as it comes within firing range. You will depart immediately or be destroyed along with it."

Under his breath, Pete quietly said, "Ah, bugger."

* * *

As he held Kitty's hand and watched her strain to cross limits her body was never meant to endure, Bobby let his smile fade. She was doing her part, but he wasn't anywhere near as confident as he'd pretended that he'd be able to do his. Taking himself from ice to vapor and back again was one thing. Taking Kitty along…

There were far, far too many things that could go wrong, and his mind was adding to the list with ever increasing speed.

"_Emma, how the hell do I do this?"_ he pleaded, hoping for once she'd actually provide some sort of helpful answer and wondering how, exactly, he was even supposed to know when to try. Would doing it on the astral plane even work, or was this, as Kitty'd suggested, just some last ditch effort to make her think…

"_Don't be ridiculous." _Emma's voice cut through his mind's frantic scrambling, tinged with more than a little exasperation and annoyance. _"We certainly didn't come all this way just so I could listen to you panic. I'll move your body into position; you simply need to focus on the task at hand. It will respond accordingly."_

"_But __**how**__?" _he demanded. _"Emma, I…"_

"_Stop overanalyzing, and do what comes naturally, Robert. Think small."_

"_What?"_

" _NOW," _she ordered, just as he heard Kitty's voice confirm the time had come. Squeezing her hand and trusting that between Illyana and Emma his body was where it needed to be, he closed his eyes and shifted his awareness inward.

He understood how this worked, for him. Had explained it, even, and been gratified by the look of surprise on Hank's furry face. Ice was composed of crystals, each of which contained the innate knowledge of how to reconstruct the whole. He could feel them there as he made the switch to his ice form. So long as he had _one_, he could make this work for himself.

Kitty, though…Kitty was flesh and blood. And while flesh and blood was largely composed of water…

"Bobby?" he heard her say, her voice pleading and strained, and knew he didn't have any time left.

Biting down hard on his lip, he _pulled_.

At first, it felt like nothing so much as the time he'd extracted the fluid from the body of Kurt's insane, demonic relative, and he pushed the thought aside as his stomach gave a lurch at the thought. No. There was more to it than that. There had to be. Letting instinct take over, he pushed past just the liquid, latching on to the physical substance that was Kitty and transposing that as well, changing the solid substance to liquid on a molecular level and pulling it with him into the air around them.

Think small, Emma had said. He wasn't sure it got much smaller than this.

He pulled his consciousness together, and felt rather than heard Emma's confirmation that she was safeguarding Kitty's. Slightly reassured, he reached out for the water vapor in the atmosphere, and began mentally sorting _his_ from _hers_ by some instinctive criteria he could understand but would never be able to verbalize.

There was another step, though, as Emma reminded him in a burst of thought his mind could comprehend but not, strictly speaking, interpret as language. Even as he pulled his own body back together, he filtered the alien substances from Kitty's, leaving behind anything his mind didn't specifically recognize as _her_ and replacing it with pure, extraneous vapor from the air around them. And painstakingly began reassembling the pieces, recreating Kitty Pryde from the smallest possible building blocks while letting the alien metal that had pervaded her body drift away.

There was something he was still forgetting, he reflected, tightening his hands around Kitty's arms as they both reshaped into a transitional something more solid and then into flesh and blood. But given he could hear someone laughing - Illyana, he thought, but he wasn't certain and didn't have the time or energy to turn and see – he wasn't too worried about it. There were apparently no longer on the astral plane, and Kitty…

Was naked, he realized as he opened his eyes for the first time. He groaned, and was about to apologize when he noticed Illyana's laughter had cut short with a gasp and he realized there was a considerably more critical problem.

Kitty wasn't breathing. Or, more accurately, was gasping for breath as if she couldn't get enough in, her eyes wide with panic.

"_There is, you know, a simple remedy for that, as you yourself learned under similar circumstances,"_ Emma observed drily, a touch of humor in her mental tone. _"And while it may seem trite, a story tale solution wouldn't be entirely inappropriate, given the circumstances."_

Reminding himself that Piotr would probably be too relieved to have Kitty back to do too much damage, Bobby wrapped his arms around her to keep her upright and pressed his lips against hers, blowing air into her just as Mystique had done for him the first time he'd tried this trick on his own. After a few long seconds that seemed an eternity, her breathing restabilized and she wrapped her arms around him in turn, letting their contact drift into a soft kiss.

They lingered like that for a moment before he pulled back a little and grinned crookedly, only the telltale warmth of his face betraying the fact he wasn't quite as unaffected as he seemed. Kitty, not breathing or otherwise, was incredibly snuggly up close and personal. Something that his own lack of clothing was beginning to make entirely too obvious for comfort, and that was totally inappropriate even to think about under the circumstances.

It was sort of hard not to, though. Hoping she wouldn't notice, and that Emma would keep her mouth shut for once, he met Kitty's eyes and grinned. "Told you you could do it," he said softly.

"Hold it, who told who?" she countered, then laughed breathlessly and hugged him again. "Thank you."

"Ahem. Do you suppose we could bother the two of you to untangle so we might determine whether or not Katherine suffered any ill effects?" Emma interjected, an unaccustomed hint of amusement in her voice.

Chuckling as his face grew still warmer, Bobby pulled back, only to clamp his arm around Kitty's back as she stumbled and nearly fell.

"Whoa. Dizzy," she whispered, then grinned crookedly over at Emma before leaning in against his side. "I think you're going to have to settle for partially untangled, at least until I get my balance back. I am _not_ lying back down on that floor." She wrinkled her nose at it, then shrugged. "Otherwise I feel pretty much okay. A whole lot better, anyway." She paused, then looked from him to Emma plaintively. "I don't suppose anyone thought to bring along that cheeseburger he owes me, huh? Or at least a change of clothes? I seem to have left mine behind."

"Sorry," Bobby murmured with a sheepish grin and a shrug. As things to forget went, clothing was pretty minor, though he had to admit he wished he had some at the moment, too. "I'm afraid I didn't really pack for the rescue."

"Here," another voice said roughly, and Bobby felt the edge of a blanket brush against his shoulder. Turning, he watched as Illyana wrapped a blanket in around Kitty's shoulders, then stepped to his side and handed him its twin. "Need help with that?" she teased.

"Nah, I've got it," he assured her, grinning as he wrinkled his nose at the sorceress in question. Before he could make any move to try to don the blanket, however, he felt Kitty turn abruptly and tightened his arm to stabilize her.

"Illyana? Oh my God, you really _are_ here!"

"_You did well, Robert," _Emma said as he watched Kitty nearly dive into Illyana's arms, much to the other girl's surprise.

Bobby just smiled as he wrapped the blanket around his waist. He was bone tired, and felt as if he'd just fought Apocalypse's horsemen singlehandedly. But maybe, just this once, he'd done okay.

* * *

"I'm telling you, this is a mistake you're making."

Despite the words themselves, Pete spoke mildly, as if he were warning a friend who was deep in his cups not to get a tattoo rather than addressing a hostile fleet of aliens prepared to open fire on the bullet and everything in its vicinity. He seemed perfectly at ease, leaning back in the copilot's seat with his feet propped on the edge of the control panel in front of him.

John and Ali had similarly relaxed expressions, though the Skrull Beatle was constantly tapping away at the ship controls while Pete spoke with the fleet commander. Of everyone in the cockpit, the only one who was clearly displeased with the Tamabouki's intent was Lockheed, who stood perched on the backrest of John's chair like a purple, leathery gargoyle, wings curls behind and a low hiss rumbling from out of him along with the occasional gout of smoke through his nostrils.

The split display before them showed the bridge of the capital ship on one half, the other serving as a wide shot of the armada itself. The Commander standing in the center of the bridge display was the polar opposite of Pete's casual posture, back stiff and leafy brows furrowed in a grim blend of regimented ceremony and thinly veiled irritation with the uncouth Englishman's uncooperative behavior. "All threats which breech the limits of our system shall be eliminated," he reasserted in a voice that brooked no argument. For an advanced species, they seemed terribly unable to let go of certain ideas. Before Pete could respond, he proudly added, "We were prepared to deal with the Annihilation Wave, and we shall destroy this Breakworld projectile as well."

"Annihilation what?" Pete said, arching one eyebrow in confusion. "I'm a bit behind on the cosmic gossip. Care to elaborate on that one?"

"This is not a joke!" the Commander snapped.

Pete crossed his arms and leaned a little further back into his chair. "It isn't? Really?" he drawled. "See, I _thought_ there was a reason none o' us were laughing, and that must be it. I'm glad you cleared that up for us."

His sarcasm seemed to bring the Commander back to himself as his expression once again became menacingly inscrutable. "You have your warning. Leave the area or be destroyed."

"I told you, that's a bad idea," Pete said, shaking his head. "We've been working on the problem ourselves, you know. But you go ahead and waste your ammunition if you really want."

The sound of a low sigh had Pete lifting his eyes to see Ali looking down at him, half a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Diplomacy wasn't your strongest subject in Spy School, was it?" she asked curiously.

"I can be diplomatic," he assured her, to which he got a dubious snort in response. "I _can_. No point in wasting it on a tosser who won't even listen, yeah?" Glancing back at John, Pete lowered his voice and said, "You're sure they can't do it?"

John responded with a slow, relaxed shake of his head. "Like I said, they were trouble, but not advanced enough to be a real threat. Otherwise the Empire would have razed their homeworld to an orb of cinders. The ship's sensors aren't finding anything that could really dent that Breakworld metal, even without whatever spell's protecting it."

So that was it, then. Figuring it was best to give the others some kind of warning, Pete searched out with his mind, hoping Frost was still keeping up that telepathic link. "_You lot might want to brace yourselves_," Pete sent to her. "_The natives are in a spear-throwing mood_."

"_I assume the negotiations went poorly then_," came her response almost before he'd finished. "_Hardly surprising, given your record_."

"_Well, I suppose I could have just mooned them_," he retorted.

"_That would have undoubtedly failed to surprise me as well_."

"_You sure you don't feel like just teleporting on back here, then? Things might get unpleasant for you when they open fire. _"

"_That simply wouldn't do, I'm afraid, Agent Wisdom_," Frost sent after a moment's pause. "_If they truly can't harm the bullet, it remains our task to work out how to prevent their world from suffering the same fate intended for Earth. Even if they don't seem to much deserve it_."

"_Thought that's what you'd say_. _Just watch yourselves, then. We'll do what we can here._"

"Alien projectile is in range, Sir," one of the crewmembers broke in.

The Commander's eyes sunk into his face a bit, another sign Pete had taken for growing irritation. "You have been warned," he repeated as he folded his hands behind his back. He turned to face his crew and issued his orders. "Forward squadron. Open fire."

Almost instantly, the other side of the viewscreen a thousand lights brightened the display as the front line of ships charged up their laser banks and missile bays. A second later a massive arc of radiant bolts dwarfed even that, the energy streaking from one ship to the next in a fiery web. And then it was gone, leaving the ships to float in place, engines still running and none firing on the bullet.

Back on the viewscreen, the Commander stared at his own display, obviously stunned for a moment. "What…?" At the sight of the bullet's inexorable charge toward his fleet, he whirled around and bellowed, "Evasive maneuvers! All ships, get out of the path of that thing!"

In a desperate flurry of movement, the armada opened out like an expanding corona, all but the battleships at the lead, which remained where they were, apparently oblivious to both the oncoming bullet and the Commander's orders. It took only a moment for the bullet to reach them and smash through the thin screen of alien spacecraft. Dozens exploded on impact. Others crumpled like wads of paper and exploded a second or two later. Still more scattered about like billiard balls, vanishing into the darkness of space or colliding with other nearby ships unharmed by the bullet.

It was hard for Pete not to wince as the scout ship followed the giant bullet through the mass, the evidence of its passing all around them and what vessels remained outside the wake still floating uselessly. Behind them, the mass of ships that had escaped the energy backlash reversed direction, closed ranks and moved in to pursue.

The scene on the bridge of the Tamabouki capital ship was a frantic mob of reports and rushing bodies as everyone tried to make sense of what had just happened. One voice, however, was clear enough to register over the veiwscreen's transmitter. "Nobody from the forward squadron is responding, sir! They're just floating there!"

The Commander turned toward Pete, anger, confusion and a little fear evident on his cylindrical face. "What do you know of this?" he demanded.

"Tried to warn you," Pete said, dropping his blithe expression and suddenly matching the alien's seriousness. "The same sort of thing happened when it was headed toward our planet. So…" Leaning forward, the dark-haired man glared directly at the Commander. "Are you ready to try working together, then?"

A heavy silence hung for several long moments before the Commander finally responded. "What do you suggest?" he said in a voice that was very close to sounding defeated.

"Well-"

"Can you're ship's weapons project sound waves?" Ali suddenly interrupted, face lighting up as if a bulb had switched on over her head.

The Commander gave her a surprised, but curt nod. "All our battleships can be configured to deliver high-intensity sonics," he confirmed.

Pete's eyes made a little twitch as they snapped up to her, realization dawning on him. Turning back to the viewscreen, he forced a smile and said, "Hang on, mate. We'll just be a moment." Reaching over toward John's control panel, he hit one of the buttons and the display switched back to a full forward view of the bullet and the stars in the distance. Pete immediately rounded back on the woman behind him and said, "Have you gone mental, Ali?"

"You know it can work, Pete," Ali replied, nonplussed.

"It could sodding _kill_ you," he insisted, dropping his feet off the control panel and standing up to face her. "I didn't come all the way out here just to let someone _else_ push themselves past their limit trying to stop that thing."

Ali remained stubbornly unmoved. "It's sweet of you to worry, really, but I can _do_ this. And besides, chances are even if you're right I'm not going to _stay_ dead."

Pete's scowl grew deeper as his brow furrowed with discontent. She had a point, but not one he cared to think about. The first time he'd ever seen her was as a corpse, and she'd come back from a fatal blow at least twice since. Death wasn't something she tended to keep for very long. Still… "You still don't know why that works, Ali," he reminded her. "It's not worth the risk."

"Then you'd better think of something else that will work fast, Pete. We've only got an hour, maybe less before it gets to that planet, and this is our best shot at stopping it."

For a moment Pete considered arguing the matter a little more, but he knew she was right. He drew himself up, but at the apex, let it collapse into a sigh. Adjusting the collar of his trenchcoat, he shook his head and grumbled, "May not matter. Until we do something about that spell protecting the ruddy thing the best we can do is stare at it."

Ali put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure a way around that, too," she said.

"Right," Pete said. He glanced back at John. "Call them back up. Ali's gonna need all they can dish out to charge her up for this."

"Right-o," John answered.

Pete turned his focus back on Frost and sent a telepathic message to her. "_That spell you mentioned is still there all right. If you've got any ideas for dealing with it, now's the time to make one go pear-shaped._"


	6. Entanglements

Chapter Six: Entanglements

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #4.Obviously, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it. Reviews are always welcome. We'd love to know what you think of the story!

Now, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Entanglements**

"I don't remember," Illyana answered, somewhat hesitantly and eyes downcast as one crimson hoof scuffed against the metal of the bullet, leaving the surface curiously unmarred. "I just…there's a hole, Kitty. Makes sense, I guess, considering I was dead. I remember dying." Briefly, a frown marred her features. " I remember putting the younger me into my armor and sending her home, and then bright, white light. Blinding. And then nothing. Or at least," she added with a crooked, humorless smile, "nothing until Belasco decided he needed me back again. I remember what came after that."

As topics of conversation for a rescue in outer space went, the resurrected sorceress reflected, this was probably as strange as it got. But Kitty'd asked, once Emma and Bobby had stepped aside to give them some illusion of privacy, and she knew better than to try to dodge her former roommate's questions. Even if Kitty was in no condition to be asking them.

Or possibly especially then. Kitty'd always been like a pit-bull in some ways; she'd just latch on to the idea and keep at it no matter what, and it didn't seemed she'd mellowed out any in the time Illyana'd been gone. Given that her former roommate's pallor probably wasn't entirely the result of the grey blanket and alien metal draining the color from her face, it seemed awfully cruel to make her go to the extra effort just to get the answers she wanted.

Besides, it was almost a relief to talk to someone about it all. Someone who might possibly be able to understand, unlike the newest batch of X-Babies, who knew her only by reputation, or the X-Men she'd been with on the ship. Oh, Bobby and Alison had tried, and she'd been relieved when neither had pressed the issue of her appearance, nor apparently even given it a second thought. But…if she couldn't make sense of her own actions, how could anyone who'd barely even known her before her death even come close?

Kitty'd known her better than anyone, way back when. Hopefully it would make the difference now.

Kitty directed a tired grin in her direction and squeezed her arm. "Hey, _I_ needed you back a long time ago. How come you didn't show up then?"

Despite herself, Illyana chuckled. "Did you remember to file your reincarnation request in triplicate?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Because forget about all the magic, that's the real key."

"Damn, foiled by paperwork. You'd think the Summers family would write a manual on this stuff." Kitty shook her head sadly and sighed. "I'm going to have to have a long talk with Rachel about that when she gets back from outer space."

"If we ever get out of outer space ourselves," Illyana retorted, directing a dirty look over her shoulder at Emma. She had no idea what they were waiting for now that Bobby'd managed to extract Kitty from the bullet, and Emma wasn't exactly being forthcoming on the subject. They could've been back on the ship and halfway to Earth by now instead of racing toward that planet John had seen in their path.

"_Do try to be patient, Ms. Rasputin. Surely you can't be in that pressing a hurry to add my soul to the others in your little trinket? If it's purity you're seeking, I'm afraid I'm woefully underqualified."_

"_I'll settle for what I can get_," Illyana countered, her eyes flashing with eldritch fire, "_The original wasn't exactly in mint condition, either."_ Now that Kitty was safe, the compulsion to complete her self-imposed quest was nagging at her even without Emma's reminder, and ignoring it was becoming more and more difficult. All she needed was four more souls to fill the Beatrix amulet and she could reclaim her own. Emma'd done her part here. Her soul might as well be the first.

There was something wrong with that premise, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her own observed from the back of her mind, whispering something…a reminder she couldn't quite make out about amulet's _true_ purpose, and what a full complement of bloodstones really meant. But she couldn't quite grasp it, and the memories refused to surface, slipping through her fingers like whispers of smoke when she grasped at them, leaving her frustratingly blank yet again. She just needed to fill the empty holes…

"Yana?" she heard Kitty ask tentatively, fingers tightening on her arm once again and shattering her concentration. Wide, concerned brown eyes searched her face. "Are you with me here?"

"Unlikely," Emma said aloud before Illyana could even recognize that Kitty's question required an answer. "She's too busy trying to determine whose souls would be an appropriate exchange for her own. You've three to use right here, Ms. Rasputin, and perhaps John or Alison would care to volunteer theirs to a good cause. I'm afraid it's altogether too likely Wisdom sold his years ago. Do hurry, though. It won't be long, now, before the matter becomes academic for all of us."

"No…" she muttered, automatically recoiling from the suggestion, even as another part of her – not the same voice as before, darker, more sinister – whispered in her ear, suggesting that it might be the very answer she was looking for. A bit too emphatically, Yana shook her head, trying to remove the fog from her mind, along with the conflict. That wasn't the plan. Emma, yes, but not Kitty, and while she barely knew Bobby Drake she remembered him rescuing her from Arcade years before. She wouldn't take his soul…

"_And Megan? What, exactly, made hers acceptable? Do you even know?"_

"Emma, I don't know what's going on, and I don't care," Kitty snapped from her side. "Just knock it off already."

"I'm afraid I can't," Emma countered. "Dear Ms. Rasputin believes she needs her soul to summon her sword. I'd suggest she set her mind to doing whatever she feels she needs to do to acquire one, or this bullet is going to have a rather abrupt encounter with an inhabited planet."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed, eyes going wider and face paling even more, and Illyana felt rather than saw her turn toward the last remaining person on the bullet. "You didn't tell me that! I wouldn't have let you-"

"Which is why I didn't tell you that!" Bobby shot back. "Don't worry, Pete and Ali have it covered-"

"They don't." Emma's voice was cool as she met Illyana's eyes. "You're going to have to break the mystical protection around this bullet, or it's going to send that unfortunate planet hurtling into its neighbor. Now, don't you think it's time to stop your infernal whining about your lack of a soul and either set to work replacing it or attempt to determine where it might be hiding?"

"It's not that easy!" Illyana shot back in defense, teeth clenched and taking a step backwards under the intensity of Emma's gaze before stopping herself. "I need…I need…" she tried to make sense of the images flooding her mind. The confusion. Belasco. The Beatrix amulet. The new group of X-Babies, cowering before her. Storm, as she'd known her in Limbo. Pixie, with her soul ripped asunder, even as her own had been, the dizzying rush she'd felt when she'd seen the first of the bloodstones take its proper place…

"Yes, that was pleasant, wasn't it?" Emma observed encouragingly. "Like father, like daughter, filling the amulet with the souls of the innocent. Perhaps you should have filled the amulet fully, instead of taking just one piece and pretending you were doing it for her own good. But then, that's how Belasco did it with you, isn't it? One piece at a time? You'd hardly want to break precedent."

Fists clenched and her nails bit into her palms unnoticed, Illyana shook her head again, reflexively. Denial or rejection, she didn't know, wasn't even really aware of her own movements. Voices and memories and…things she couldn't put a name to swirled and twisted and rushed into her mind, jumbling her thoughts and perceptions even further. The souls of the innocent. Something about what the Beatrix amulet was for…

"Emma, shut up, can't you see there's something wrong?" Kitty demanded, her friend's voice reaching her as though from a distance. Far away. "Leave her alone. I can get the bullet through the planet, and we can figure out something then."

"You can't!" Bobby protested. "You barely got out once; there's no way you're going to manage it again."

"Want to place a bet on that?"

Souls of the innocent. The Amulet. The Bloodstones.

"All of you, just shut up!" Illyana demanded with a growl and eyes flashing a flaming red as she whirled on the assembled mutants, fangs bared and tail lashing in irritation, before covering her face with her hands, trying to focus. Trying to sift through it all before it overwhelmed her.

The amulet. Five bloodstones. The sacrifice of innocence, that would…

Open the portal and allow the N'garai to take over the Earth.

That son of a bitch.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as Magik closed her eyes and focused inward, even as she had years before when she'd created the Soulsword as a weapon against Belasco. He'd played her as a dupe then, assuring her of his love and filling her mind with the glory that would be hers if she surrendered her soul to his keeping and helped him open the gates for the Elder Gods. If Storm hadn't rescued her, she would have surrendered the rest to him willingly, trusting child that she'd been.

She was no longer trusting, though. No longer innocent. And he'd brought her back from the death she'd chosen, and managed to trick her into doing something far worse.

She probed deeper within herself until she found it - a tangled mess of light and dark, good and evil, reflecting her own nature. Dim and buried…hidden, almost. But there.

Her soul.

All a trick, then. He'd taken advantage of the confusion induced by her return, used her as his cat's paw to fill the amulet once again. And once again, he'd nearly succeeded.

"Like hell."

Fog dissipating, giving way to determination and the clarity of realization, she could feel Kurt Wagner, far distant . Could sense his surprise as the burden he'd born for the love of another sorceress was taken from him, pulled inexorably back to its rightful mistress. And sent him a surge of gratitude, even as the hilt of her sword materialized in her hand.

Hers. Like her soul, a mix of light and darkness, corruption and innocence. Only Belasco's lies had hidden it from her, kept her from feeling the pull of like to like. Turning it in her hand, she plunged it into the floor. Eldritch light flared, bright and blinding for a moment, and she _felt_ the intricate web of sorcery enmeshed in the alien metal give, weaken, then dissolve into the aether under the might of the Sword.

She stood there for long, pained moments, ignoring the stares of the others and their whispered questions, then pulled the sword out of its metal encasement. And finally, looked up from her feet – feet? – to glare at Emma Frost.

"This doesn't change anything," she warned, meeting ice blue eyes with her own that were only a shade deeper. And it didn't. There was too much history between them for her to trust Emma, or, she suspected, vice versa. But just maybe she owed her one. This once.

"My dear, I'd hardly have it any other way," the White Queen replied, a smile playing over her lips as she responded to either the sentiment or the unspoken thought. "Shall we go, now? I believe the others will take it from here."

"No sooner said than done," Illyana replied, grateful for the change of subject. She had a lot to think about, but for now, she was content to push it from her mind and focus on summoning a stepping disk to get them back to the ship.

"Any chance you can drum me up something to wear while we're in Limbo?" Kitty asked as the circlet of light appeared beneath their feet. "Not that I don't appreciate the blanket, but-"

"I think it's a good look for you," Bobby assured her, waggling his eyebrows. "John's going to be disappointed in Illyana, though. He really liked the horns and hooves."

Startling, Illyana reached up to her forehead and was surprised to find that the curled protuberances were shorter by half. She was still a work in progress, apparently, but she'd take it. The rest would come, now that she'd broken Belasco's compulsion and knew how to go about it. "He'll deal," she replied with a grin. "And I think I can come up with something that'll satisfy you both," she assured Kitty and Bobby as the group disappeared.

What had Alison said about Xena: Warrior Princess? She was pretty sure she'd seen that show at least once…

* * *

"They've got it!"

Pete probably knew he didn't have to announce it out loud, Ali figured. They all got the message from Emma and now that things had gone silent on the telepathic front it was pretty much a given than they'd high-tailed it out of there courtesy of Illyana's Limbo Express. Now it was just them versus the Giant Bullet of Doom. She couldn't really blame Pete for making the announcement anyway, though. Something like that was worth saying out loud. Especially since they were really starting to cut things close.

And on that note…

"So how much longer?" the mutant pop-star asked.

John was already checking the figures on his display. "About fifteen minutes," he said. Anyone looking at him would have thought the Skrull-in-rock-idol's-clothing was the most relaxed man in the world, but there was an unmistakable tension in his voice. And no wonder. Fifteen minutes wasn't a lot of time.

"All right, then," Ali said, drawing herself up with a deep breath. "It's Showtime." No point waiting around for an invitation, after all. Her eyes flicked toward Pete and for a second she hesitated, an internal debate flashing though her as she told herself that she should say _something_ to him while she still had the chance.

Hell with it. "Pete?" she ventured.

He turned around to look at her, not over his shoulder, but swiveling his chair so he could face her fully. One of his brows arched curiously as he waited for what she had to say.

"I-"

Suddenly the viewscreen blinked over to an image of the Tamabouki fleet's commander. "Our time grows short!" he bellowed in his Muppet-y way. Apparently he'd decided there was no need to even pretend stand on ceremony anymore. Not that she could blame him, really. His remark was about as literally true as it could get. "What is the status of the Breakworld projectile?"

Well, so much for that. Lifting her eyes up to the screen, Ali gave the commander a quick nod. "We just got word the spell's gone," she told him. "And I'm on my way."

That was that, then. Turning on her heel with a final glance toward Pete, Ali slipped out of the cockpit and walked purposefully for the causeway. She gathered her nerves as she approached the rungs that would take her to the upper deck and the airlock, trying not to think about just what it was going to take to actually stop that big-ass bullet. And whether she was really capable of pulling it off.

It wasn't like this was the first time she'd pulled off the impossible, after all.

"Ali, wait," she heard Pete say, and turned to see him walking toward her with a strange look in his eyes. God, he wasn't about to start _that_ again, she hoped.

Steeling herself for an argument they really didn't have _time_ for, the former pop singer said, "We've already _discussed_ this, okay? I'm doing this."

It didn't look like she was changing his mind, though. He didn't stop until he was right in front of her and in a gentle voice that took her by surprise said, "I know." Then, in a move that took her even _more_ by surprise, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, letting the kiss linger while Ali's eyes went wide. "For luck," he explained when he pulled back, body still tense even as he gave her a crooked smile.

Oh. Well that was different, then.

Eyes twinkling impishly, Ali slipped her arms around him and let out a soft chuckle. "Well don't hold out on me, Pete. Think about how much luck I'm going to need." And with that she laced her fingers through his ink-black hair and drew him into a deep, passionate kiss. Holding him close, she sort of lost track of time until finally they both had to come up for air and she moved to catch his eyes with hers.

Pete sort of looked like he'd just been whanged over the head with a wooden board, but that half-smile was still there. "What about that husband o' yours?" he finally asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Pff. What about that wife of yours?" Ali tossed back with a mischievous grin.

"Good point," the British spy conceded. "Right then, time to get to work, yeah?"

Surprising even herself with how softly she smiled, Ali gave Pete's cheek a gentle pat. "I'll be back before you know it," she assured him.

"If you aren't you're getting a spanking," Pete said with a gruff frown that didn't reach his eyes. There, instead, was an unexpected gentleness and concern, something she hadn't imagined the surly Brit was even capable of when she'd first met him. Now it hardly surprised her at all.

Ali breathed a mild chuckle as she reached for one of the ladder's rungs. "Promises, promises," she teased with a wink, leaving him to do his part as she made for the airlock.

As soon as the door sealed behind her, Ali heard John's voice sound out through the intercom. "All set then, luv?" he asked.

"Ready when you are," she replied, sheathing herself in a thin force field of soft light. No point in wasting time climbing into some bulky space suit if she didn't need to. Besides, if she was going to risk it all on the craziest damn stunt of her entire life, she might as well look good doing it.

A moment later she felt the air sucked out of the chamber as it depressurized, seeming to take the artificial gravity along with it. She floated toward the hatch as it slowly began to open and propelled herself through the gap that formed as soon as there was room. Once outside, she flew through the vacuum of space, the nimbus of light surrounding her making her seem like a tiny sun.

As she drifted into position, Ali couldn't help drinking in the sights around her. As trips to space went, this was far from her first rodeo, but she still found herself awed by the sheer spectacle of it all. The fleet had jumped ahead to the Tamabouki homeworld to wait for the oncoming bullet, and as her naked eyes fell upon the sight of the planet for the first time she felt her breath catch, as much out of wonder as to suppress a slight chuckle. It was a beautiful planet, but given the way the Tamabouki looked, the lemon yellow atmosphere reminded her entirely too much of hollandaise sauce. In the distance, the gas giant it served as a moon for loomed like Jupiter's angry green cousin.

Everywhere else, it seemed, were ships from the fleet. On every side, including above and below, they waited for her, all facing the same central point she was headed toward as planned earlier. It was like having the oddest damn audience she could imagine gathered in the most scenic amphitheatre of all time, just for her biggest performance ever. And in a way, that's exactly what it was.

She wasn't sure if John had given them the signal or not, but the moment she was in position the first of the sonic beams slammed into her. The thin wave was little more than a concentrated pocket in an otherwise silent vacuum, but no less intense because of it, and Ali tensed reflexively as soon as it hit. Power taking over automatically, she absorbed it all, feeling the energy building up as she went into living battery mode while the wave kept pouring into her.

Then a second joined in, and a third, each new beam of sound crashing though her as it, too, was soaked up through her force field. Three became dozens. Then hundreds. _Thousands_.

_Oh god, it hurt…_

Ali gritted her teeth as she struggled to hold it all in, body trembling and shining brighter than any star in the distance. It was more than she'd ever taken, and still it came until she was sure she would burst from the sheer volume of it all. She refused to let that distract her as she concentrated on gathering every wave, not letting a single iota of sound stay from her waiting form. Painful as it was, she knew she'd need all of it, and even that might not be enough for her to take down something the size of the Breakworld bullet.

She still wasn't even sure just _what_ the hell she was going to actually do to the thing. For all her confidence on the ship, she still hadn't MacGyver'd up a plan of her own, but she was going to have to come up with something quick. She wasn't sure how much time she actually had left. Five minutes? Two? Less?

She'd read up on hollow point bullets. Something she browsed through once during a case study while she was still in Law School. The way those things worked, it would do some truly nasty stuff to that planet if it hit, worse than even John had suggested. Funny how much damage something like that could do to the planet, even though the one was so much smaller than the other.

Her eyes flicked toward the sun in the distance. Heat like that could even melt adamantium, and would make short work of something like the Breakworld bullet before it had a chance to get close enough to actually do any damage. It was a shame the thing wasn't on course to hit that instead of the Tamabouki homeworld.

_Wait a minute…_

Ali almost smiled as an idea flashed through her mind, and immediately set to projecting her forcefield out as she put it into action. The glowing sheath expanded outward, the edges growing thick and bright as she reinforced them into the largest solid light object she'd ever made. Pushing further, focusing with all her strength, the forcefield slowly took shape until finally she was ready.

A simple chute, nothing all that remarkable really, except for the fact that it was roughly ten miles wide and several thousand miles long. She'd never attempted something of this size with solid light before, but if her guess was right, it only needed to hold together for a few seconds. Now all she had to do was angle it properly and hope like hell that her plan would _work_.

In the distance, barely a pinprick in the blackness, she spotted the bullet coming. Face set, Ali clenched her muscles as she took aim and waited, letting it get closer. She had to make sure that she didn't move until she was ready, when she'd found the perfect angle. If she guessed wrong there wasn't going to be enough of her _left_ for anyone to worry about anymore.

She was, literally, only going to get one shot at this.

Still holding the forcefield together, she watched as the bullet barreled its way toward her and made the last few adjustments, concentrating everything she had into it until she was ready. A blink later it struck, sliding into the chute as smoothly as a toboggan. She didn't even feel it until it reached the first curve, the sheer mass of the thing and its velocity pushing against the solid light with bone-crushing force. The backlash rippled through the field and struck Ali hard enough to make her head spin and her vision explode in bright reds and oranges. She let out a scream of pure agony, yet still held on with everything she had. This wasn't even going to be the worst of it.

The whole thing took less than a fraction of a second, yet it felt like an eternity of torment. The bullet fought against her like a living thing as it rode the chute. It didn't _want_ to change directions. Too bad for it. Fighting back against the pain, she used the chute to nudge the bullet along, incrementally redirecting it until she finally had it aimed exactly where she wanted. And not a moment too soon. She barely had time to notice her handiwork as her well of strength ran dry and her focus finally snapped, the ruined forcefield winking out of existence. She was left floating alone, unprotected by even the thinnest of sheathes. It didn't matter, her nerves were already on fire, the pain blinding her to everything. All she had time for was one last mental sigh of relief, one glimmer of pride at the knowledge that she'd done it. And then the darkness came, wrapping her in its blissful embrace as it carried her off to oblivion.

But not forever.

"Ali? Ali, damn it, breathe!"

Despite her fuzzed consciousness barely hearing the words, her body responded to the command, convulsing slightly as she sucked in a deep, wheezing breath and then collapsing to the hard metal floor beneath her.

Hard metal floor? When had that happened?

Blue eyes fluttering open, she blinked for a moment until the fog cleared and saw that she was back in the scout ship's airlock. Her head was cradled in Pete's arms, and as her eyes fell upon him she noticed him looking down on her with undisguised concern. He was wearing the spacesuit she'd left behind, his tie still visible in the gap left by the helmet he must have removed after getting her back to the spaceship.

Pete sighed with relief. "Don't you ever make me do something like that to save your ass again, yeah?" he told her, and now that her vision was starting to adjust a little better, Ali did think he looked a bit paler than normal. Apparently he wasn't a big fan of spacewalking. She decided she might have to work on that. Floating around out there was kind of fun, actually, now that the she wasn't focused on the unpleasant stuff that had come with her latest foray into the void.

"You smell like cigarettes," she said weakly. God, she could barely twitch her fingers.

The observation had Pete shaking his head in bemusement, despite how concerned he looked. "You were expecting potpourri?" he asked.

"Good point," she said. Not that it mattered. She wondered if it was possible that she was actually starting to _like_ the smell. "Did I-?"

"Yeah," Pete answered automatically. "You turned that thing inside out, all right. It won't be bothering anyone now. That was quite a show you put on back there."

Smiling weakly, Ali chuckled. "Hey, it's what I do"

"Maybe," he told her as he shifted her closer. "But you got one part wrong."

"Oh? And what's that?"

There was a beat of silence before he answered. "You're supposed to knock them dead, not yourself."

Ali shook her head and chuckled again. She tested her strength again and found she could actually lift her arm. Yay progress. Reaching up, she wrapped it around Pete's neck and drew him down. "Shut up, Pete," she said, inching her head up until their lips met.


	7. Deliverance

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know: **This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it. Reviews are always welcome. We'd love to know what you think of the story!

Now, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Deliverance**

Kitty looked down at herself, inspecting the tanned leather halter top and skirt she was now wearing, then arched a curious eyebrow at Illyana. "When I asked you to conjure up some clothes, I wasn't expecting something quite so… Bronze Age," she said in mild bemusement, body almost deflating under the weight of fatigue as she gave in and sank into the nearest chair. As even mockingly-indignant protests went, it left more than a little to be desired, but it was all she had energy for just now. She'd make up for it later.

"It's kind of an inside joke," was the blonde sorceress' smirking reply as she turned her attention next to Bobby, still gripping her Soulsword as if the feel of the hilt under her fingers was a touchstone to her humanity. Kitty had to admit it was the first time she'd actually been happy to see the thing since well before its appearance outside Excalibur's lighthouse long years ago. "Alison'll explain it."

Somehow, Kitty wasn't surprised that Dazzler had something to do with this outfit.

"Very clever, dear," Emma remarked, never breaking stride as she paced the dim chamber of Illyana's palace. "But let's put Robert back in the outfit he was wearing earlier, if you can manage." The normally impeccably composed Ms. Frost looked only seconds away from shivering in revulsion, and that alone was enough to distract Kitty's attention from where it had wandered toward the borderline obscene statues and the red, black and silver décor surrounding them. No matter what, seeing the White Queen creeped out enough to erode her otherwise unshakable demeanor was something Kitty didn't think she'd ever get tired of.

Old habits died hard.

After everything they'd been through, though, it was impossible to hate Emma in _quite_ the same way she had before. Her presence on this rescue mission with the others only reinforced that (somewhat reluctant) shift in perspective and for once Kitty didn't immediately attempt to fight off that change.

It didn't, by any stretch of the imagination, mean that all was suddenly forgiven and forgotten. There was too much history for that, some of it too raw and fresh no matter what the reasoning or justification. But maybe there was at least a glimmer of understanding and insight now, where there hadn't been before.

Maybe in time, there would be more, but it wasn't something she had the energy or the desire to delve into any farther at the moment. That way lay things she wasn't quite ready to address head on herself, and thoughts of Emma's place on the 'rescue team' brought another detail to her attention. There were a few more not yet accounted for rescuers who'd crossed half the galaxy to come find her.

"Is everyone else okay?" Kitty asked, turning serious eyes toward Emma, bringing the imperious blonde to an abrupt halt in her edgy circuit around the throne room as ice blue eyes glanced her way.

"I'm afraid I can't sense them from here, but I'm sure they're managing well enough." The White Queen's gaze swept the room again, hands rising as if to wrap her arms around herself before arresting the motion and dropping them back to her side. "Perhaps Ms. Rasputin would care to return us there so you can see for yourself."

"Does my palace make you nervous, Ms. Frost?" Illyana smiled, the expression holding a slightly wicked but subtle edge as she finished conjuring a semblance of Bobby's former outfit. "How about we look in on them, first?" she suggested, waving her hand toward the large gilded mirror perched on one of the walls. The smooth glass instantly dissolved into a swirling pool of smoke before coalescing back into an intangible, silvery liquid. Like a Polaroid slowly coming into focus, an image appeared on the mystical surface, revealing a fleet of spaceships Kitty might've sworn had flown right out of some of her favorite sci-fi novels.

It was what she _didn't_ see that immediately caught her attention, however.

No bullet. Not even a trace.

"They did it," she breathed, voice quavering with emotion and almost afraid to believe the evidence of her own eyes as a second rush of relief washed through her. It was every bit as sweet as the first one, when she'd finally been free of that alien metal. "They really did it. It's gone. It's finally over." After all the time she'd spent bonded to that thing, it felt like nothing else to actually be able to say those words. Bobby and Emma had helped her banish it from her body, and now, finally, it was gone from her conscience as well.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she asked, "Which one's your ship?"

"That little one over there," Illyana said, and with another wave of her hand the image blurred briefly. When it cleared again there was a closer view of the ship as it drifted through space. For a moment Kitty had thought it might be the larger ship behind it, but immediately dismissed that thought. It was obviously the small, entirely unimpressive vessel in the center of the mirror.

"You came in that thing?" Kitty smirked, eyebrow making an attempt to climb above her hairline. "You're braver than I thought."

Bobby barked out a quick laugh. "You're wearing the wrong bikini top for that line, Princess Leia," he informed her.

Gifting him with a smile for catching the reference, Kitty said, "I always preferred Threepio anyway."

"That's very nice, but there's no reason to linger _here_ any longer, is there?" Emma declared as she approached them with hurried steps, blue eyes regarding them with familiar impatience.

Kitty shrugged. "Emma's got a point," she conceded. Not that she was having a problem with taking a breather, even in a place like Limbo, but she was eager to see the others, too.

"All right," Illyana relented, sword vanishing from her hand moments before she called a stepping disk to take them all out of Limbo. An instant later they appeared in the ship's passenger bay, which Kitty was surprised to find empty.

"So where is-" she began to say, but was interrupted by a frenzied squawk from the cockpit followed by the tiny form of Lockheed launching himself into Kitty's arms. "Ooof!" she cried, wobbling on her feet. "Easy, Lockheed! I'm still a bit worn out, okay?" The little, purple dragon promptly ignored her plea, relentlessly cooing and nuzzling at her face with his slender, tapered head until she didn't have any choice but to giggle, give in, and wrap him in a happy squeeze of greeting.

When she finally got a moment's reprieve, however, the brunette managed to collect herself and give him a stern, "You're still in trouble, you know. Spying on us was _not_ a nice thing to do, dragon." Lockheed whimpered slightly and curled back on his sinewy neck, giving her the best abashed look he could manage with those beady little eyes of his. Kitty had to admit, he'd always done rather well with that. Face softening, she brought him back up to her cheek and nuzzled him, a few locks of her chestnut hair falling loosely over one of his wings. "But you came for me," she said. "So I forgive you."

"Look who's back," a familiar voice made rough by a lifetime of too many cigarettes called from the aft side of the bay. She and the others turned to see Pete and Ali approaching from the companionway behind them. Ali looked like she was ready to pass out, but she was clearly happy to see everyone as she let Pete support her with one arm. "Next time you need rescuing, Pryde, have the good sense to do it closer to home, yeah?" he added.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "How about the next time someone shoots a giant, magic bullet at the Earth we just let you take care of it, then?" Then, just to make certain she was driving the point home properly, she stuck her tongue out at him. Lockheed mirrored the act before unhooking himself from Kitty's arms and taking to the air again.

"Heh," Pete said, gently guiding Ali into one of the nearby seats. As soon as Ali was out of his arms Kitty stepped forward and wrapped him in a quick embrace, and felt Pete returned affectionately. It was, she realized with a slight pang of regret, the affection of old friends reunited instead of the passion of previous times, but that didn't diminish the fact she was happy to see him or keep her from lingering in his arms just a moment longer.

After all, it had been a long time.

He released her, then gave her the patented once-over. "How d'you feel, anyway?"

"Like I've been stuck inside a bullet without any kind of food or company," Kitty answered with a snort, leaning down to give Ali a gentle hug next. The former pop star looked like she might break if she put any more into it than that, and Kitty could certainly understand the feeling. "Are you _sure_ none of you guys brought that cheeseburger Bobby owes me?"

"We'll make it up to you when we get back to Earth," Ali promised with a tired smile. "I could go for something like that, myself. Or a nice month-long coma. Whichever." Pete was still hovering pretty close to Dazzler, Kitty noted, idly wondering if something was going on _there_. The sparkle in her eyes as Ali turned her head toward Pete definitely didn't escape her attention as the singer added, "I've been thinking, Pete."

The dark-haired Brit turned his attention back to Ali and, as if by reflex said, "You know it worries me when you do that."

Kitty brought her hand up to conceal the smile that instantly spread across her face. More than once, she'd had that sort of reply directed her way, she remembered it well. And the look that went with it. Yes. There was definitely something going on there.

Ali seemed to dismiss Pete's comment and just continued on, waving away any concerns, faux or otherwise. "I've decided on a name for this ship." Arching one blonde eyebrow at him, she added, "You said whatever I like, remember?"

Obviously he hadn't been thinking about who Ali was when he made that promise, Kitty thought, and the almost-wince on Pete's face told her he was well aware of what he'd landed in now. She could practically see the various horrible possibilities swimming through his mind. To his credit, he didn't groan or try to take it back. "Well, you've bloody earned it, I suppose," he said. "So what is it?"

"Deliverance," Ali said with a proud smile.

Kitty watched as everyone present grew silent and spent a moment considering Ali's choice. "I like it," Illyana finally declared, and everyone else nodded agreement.

Before anyone could say more about it, though, a new arrival stepped through the hatch and into the cockpit. "I see you've traded in for a new set of legs," the oddly familiar man said as he looked Illyana up and down. "I liked the other ones, but you're still a hell of a looker." Illyana snorted a quick laugh and Kitty blinked for a moment as she took in the sight. Even knowing ahead of time he was a dead ringer for John Lennon hadn't quite prepared Kitty for the sight of an ex-Beatle, and a dead one at that, walking right into the passenger bay of a ship in the middle of outer space. She recovered quickly enough, though. It was hardly the _strangest_ thing she'd ever seen since she discovered her mutant power, after all.

"Autopilot's all set in, like," 'John' announced with a smile before he turned spectacled eyes on Kitty. "So here's the lady of the hour, then." He casually walked up to her, took her hand and dipped low to give it gentle kiss. "Seems like far too nice a girl to be stuck out here. John the Skrull, at your service."

"Kitty the until-recently-human-bullet," she replied with an easy smile. Weird double of a major idol or not, he was certainly a charmer. "And I am too nice. Ask anyone." Catching the looks around her, she quickly added, "Except the people in this room."

John gave her a friendly nod and winked knowingly. "Just thought I'd pop in and say that our new friends are feeling rather grateful about their planet being saved and have offered to throw in with Earth in the war. All they ask is that Pete here never get assigned as an ambassador to their planet." A quick round of chuckles followed that before he continued. "They've even offered to escort us back so we won't have to worry about that sodding blockade as much as we did getting out."

"All right!" Bobby exulted before spontaneously adopting an off-key sing-song voice. "We'll get by with a little help from our friends." He paused to see everyone looking at him with varying degrees of amusement, all not saying a word. Kitty finally broke the silence with a tiny snicker. "Uh, sorry," Bobby said, looking slightly embarrassed.

John's eyebrows were very close to his scalp as he tilted his signature round glasses down. "What was _that_?" he said before closing the distance, lips quirking at the edges. "No, no, mate, you've got to do that from the diaphragm." John waved his hands to indicate the proper area. "And you've got to feel the words here," he added, giving his heart a little pat.

"Marvelous," Pete grumbled. "Now you've got him started."

Drawing himself up, John's voice rang through the passenger bay high and clear as he sang, "What would you think if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me." Stopping there, he looked back at Bobby. "Go on, now. You try."

Kitty smiled encouragingly as Bobby's eyes flicked toward her and she gave him a little waggle with her fingers to coax him some more. She figured that should more than overrule the way Pete was signaling him to do anything but.

It must have worked, because Bobby took a quick breath and sang, "Lend me you ears and I'll sing you a song, and I'll try not to sing out of key."

"That's the way!" John said approvingly and gave Bobby a friendly cuff on the shoulder

He wasn't going to be headlining any operas in this lifetime, but Kitty had to admit Bobby did sound better after that. She looked from Illyana to Ali, and saw that both of them were mildly impressed as well. The three exchanged a quick smirk just before looking back at John and Bobby and began clapping along. Emma simply shook her head and found a comfortable seat to enjoy the show from.

The two men glanced at one another, exchanged a quick nod of assent, and turned smiles on their audience before joining their voices for the first chorus.

"I get by with a little help from my friends,

I get high with a little help from my friends,

I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends."

"Whoo!" Ali cried out, pumping one fist in the air and Kitty's smile grew wider. She might be exhausted, but Dazzler was always going to have energy to spare for music. As if to prove that, she quickly jumped in with the next line, voice high, clear and note-perfect. "What do I do when my love is away,"

"Does it worry you to be alone?" Bobby and John immediately answered as the ladies continued to clap.

As Ali picked up her next part in the song Pete groaned, rubbing at his temples with one hand and said, "That's it, I really am going to shove myself out an airlock."

The others ignored him as they continued the song, but Emma nearly made Kitty's jaw drop as she said, "Oh, relax, Wisdom. Even Scott indulges in the occasional practical joke on Logan." Kitty just shook her head in disbelief even as she kept time with the clapping. Would wonders never cease?

Illyana was not to be left out, apparently, and as the second chorus began, she sidled up to Pete, took his hands before he could react and stepped backward, tugging him into a clear spot in the center of the passenger bay.

"What are you doing?" Pete said suspiciously even as he reluctantly allowed her to lead him away.

 The gleam in Illyana's eyes was positively wicked as she smiled and raised his hands over his head, then began to step back and forth. "This is called dancing," she replied with a teasing smirk. "You've probably heard of it."

"Oh, god," Pete said turning his eyes heavenward. "They've all gone mad." He did not, Kitty noticed, wrest his hands free from Illyana's, however. Which was just as well, it'd all be much less painful for him, she was sure, if he just went along quietly.

"You're supposed to be moving," Illyana pointed out, and suddenly her thin tail whipped out and smacked him against his calf, causing Pete to jump and yelp in protest. Illyana grinned and kept dancing, smacking his other leg in similar fashion.

Kitty nearly doubled over with laughter as she watched her best friend buffalo Pete into dancing with her, noting as her eyes began to tear up that Ali was also struggling to continue singing as she, too, quaked with amusement. Even Emma was carefully covering her mouth with one elegant, gloved hand.

For the moment, at least, the universe seemed perfect in Kitty's mind. Surrounded by music, friends and the sound of each other's laughter, she clutched at her sides and savored the delicious pain of her helpless guffaws. She'd regret it later when she was sore all over, but right now she didn't care. She felt alive, a sensation she'd come dangerously close to forgetting, and it was wonderful to _be_ alive.

And she was going home.

* * *

Time passed. Too rushed with adrenaline to do more than catch brief snatches of sleep, Kitty settled for smiling and watching her teammates, new and old, rejoice in yet another victory over impossible odds. Things were finally beginning to settle down though, and she covered her mouth and yawned as she looked around the cabin.

Emma seemed to be dozing, but Kitty wasn't ruling out the possibility she was carrying on a telepathic conversation with someone nearby. Pete was sitting with Ali, their heads close together, talking about who knew what in voices too low to hear. Illyana'd snagged Bobby as a replacement dance partner, but was now being tugged laughing toward the cockpit by John, who was promising her an elementary lesson in the finer points of piloting.

She wondered, absently, if Illyana realized that piloting was probably the last thing on the Skrull's mind, but she couldn't really summon up the energy to ask. She'd settled into a sort of contented lethargy, and was perfectly content to remain there. She was safe. She was on her way home. She was…

Well, she was refusing to think about certain things that she probably should. But it would wait until later.

Bobby plopped down next to her breathlessly, and she jerked out of her daze when a bag of chips landed in her lap.

"I know it's not a burger, but hey, better than nothing, right?" he offered with a crooked grin as he leaned back in his seat. "Figured you were probably near starving by now."

"Close, anyway," she conceded as she ripped open the bag and popped a potato chip into her mouth, then raised her eyebrows and grinned. "This does not get you off the hook, though," she pointed out, waggling a finger at him. "You still owe me a cheeseburger, onion rings, and a Coke."

"Hey, after all that? I'll even upgrade it to a malt." He craned his head, apparently to study her face, then smiled a little. "How're you feeling, really?"

"Drained." She sighed impatiently and pushed her hair back off her face. "It's annoying, y'know? I feel like I ran a marathon, except, well, worse."

"Phasing a bullet through a few dozen solar systems will do that to you," he pointed out with a grin as he snatched a chip out of her bag. "Other than that okay, though? The first time I did that by myself, I ended up feeling like I was a half melted slurpie afterwards. He made a face and shuddered. "Do _not_ let Hank talk you into a hydrogen bath, by the way. Very highly overrated. It worked," he admitted grudgingly, "but still, I don't recommend it."

"I'll keep it in mind," she replied with a soft laugh, then frowned as the rest of what he'd said sunk in. Knowing Bobby, he might've been exaggerating, but… "A few dozen solar systems?" she asked leadingly.

Not exaggerating, she decided as his expression changed from amused to apologetic. "Umm…well, maybe not a few?" he offered hopefully. "Because y'know, I really didn't pay attention to the star charts and stuff. You'd probably have to ask John or Pete or –"

"Bobby? Don't make me ask someone else. Just tell me how long I was gone?" she asked, stomach sinking. She had already braced for the idea that it had been a while since she'd phased the bullet through the Earth. It would've likely taken them a day or two to find a space craft and pull everyone together, to come up with a plan. But the fact no one had said a word about how long she'd been gone before this wasn't exactly reassuring. In fact, it was anything but.

"A little over a month?" he replied softly, glancing over at Emma as if prepared for her to start reaming him out, mind to mind, then turning back to her with an apologetic grimace. "Things sort of went crazy right after you left. Scott had people working on it, but…" his voice trailed off and he reached over to touch her arm.

It was a nice gesture, Kitty reflected as she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. But still, a month. More than a month of her life, spend largely unconscious and bonded to the inside of a giant bullet, speeding through space. She tried to rationalize it, to remind herself that they had no way of knowing if she were even alive. If, based on what she'd told Emma, she was even human any longer. The excuses fell flat. The bullet had remained phased, which should've told them all they'd needed to know.

But apparently things had gone crazy. _Again_. Was there ever a time when things weren't going crazy? She couldn't remember one. Even in Excalibur, it'd been the same, but somehow they'd always managed to find a way to reclaim their own.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, she supposed. Or a disappointment. But, still, it did. To the people she cared for, and who were supposed to have cared for her the most, she should've warranted more than just 'someone working on it'.

God knew, she'd have done it for them. Had done, far more than once.

Why was it, Kitty wondered with a mix of irritation and resignation, that her 'knight in shining armor' never quite managed to live up to that image when she most needed it? And this time she couldn't even pass it off as a manufactured illusion.

"Scott didn't send you, did he?" she asked without opening her eyes. She knew the answer already, just as she'd known Peter wasn't with the rescue effort, but she needed to hear it out loud. "Pete did this on his own." It explained a lot, really. The motley collection of rescuers, the Skrull ship, and the fact that only Emma was representing the last X-Team she'd been with.

"Yeah, he did," Bobby replied softly, and she opened her eyes to see the worried expression on his face. "Kit, I'm sorry. We should've been here sooner. But…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders.

Kitty nodded tiredly. There was always a "but." But we figured you'd be fine. But we didn't think you wanted us to find you. But there really wasn't anything we could've done. But, but, but…She was being unfair and she knew it, but she figured she was entitled. It was funny how "but" only seemed to apply when it was her. She had to admit, the X-Men were nothing if not consistent. And so, despite the way it ripped her heart out to admit it, was Peter.

"It's okay," she said finally. Some things never changed, apparently, and it was probably long past time she stopped expecting them too. She forced a slight smile and wrapped her hand over his. "You came. I appreciate that, more than you can possibly imagine." All the more so because the people she would have expected to hadn't. She cocked her head and looked him over in turn. "Are you okay? No slurpie consequences or anything?" she joked half-heartedly as she studied his face.

He looked tired, she decided. The trademark smile was there, tinged with concern, but drawn as if he'd pushed limits of his own. On her behalf, she realized, feeling vaguely guilty as she realized he'd not only done something he'd never done before, but something that physically, he possibly shouldn't have. For a moment, she wondered why Bobby Drake of all people had even joined the rescue team – they were friends, sure, but aside from a shared love of baseball they'd never been particularly close.

She couldn't think of a reason offhand, unless Emma'd somehow forced the issue. But she was awfully glad that he had.

"Nah, I'm cool," he replied with a shrug, grinning at his own intentional pun as he slipped his arm companionably around her shoulders and gave her a half hug. "You do realize Hank's going to want to poke and prod at you endlessly when we get back, right?"

There was an odd note in his voice she couldn't quite identify, until she realized suddenly he was still worried that whatever he'd done to her might've had ill effects. Which was possible, she supposed, but considering that she was apparently alien-metal free and no longer speeding helplessly through space, she was prepared to deal with any if necessary. It was sort of sweet that he was worried about it, though, so she smiled and leaned into his side, then made a show of signing reluctantly. "Oh fine, I'll let him poke and prod. A little," she teased. "Wouldn't want him to make a habit of it or anything."

"Well, don't you two look comfy?" Ali said playfully, and Kitty looked over to see her grinning tiredly, but decidedly mischievously, at them from across the aisle. "Y'know, I was just thinking, Popsicle…"

She paused for a moment and Kitty groaned internally. Okay, this couldn't be good. Not when Ali had that look on her face. Suddenly, she was grateful that 'Yana'd wandered off into the cockpit; she had a feeling that if she hadn't, they'd be tag teaming about now.

Ali, however, was apparently unconcerned about performing solo. Somehow, Kitty wasn't surprised.

"Illyana said the two of you were just sort of floating around the inside of the bullet in component molecules or something. Are you sure you got everything back in the right places?"

"Reasonably sure," Bobby replied cautiously, his eyebrows rising. "It's not like I'm an expert or anything. Do I dare ask why you want to know?"

"Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway." That mischievous grin widened and she leaned forward a little. "Because y'know, there was all that _mixing._" She paused for effect, like the performer that she was, trying to keep them on the edge off their seats, before adding, "And telling Scott you got Kitty pregnant because one of your water molecules latched onto to one of hers would make that little vein in his head throb…"

Kitty stared, then covered her face with her hand and groaned. This was juuuust what she needed. "Hold it, Kitty's pregnant?" Illyana asked as she emerged from the cockpit, her hair in slight disarray and a broad grin on her face. "Why didn't you tell me? And can I put in dibs on godmother?"

"I thought fairies got that gig, not demon sorceresses," Pete tossed in snidely. Great. She wasn't getting any help from there, either. And now Yana was sticking her tongue out at Pete.

It was official. She'd gone from being stuck in a giant bullet to being stuck in kindergarten.

"Hey, it's a variation on a theme."

"Do you really think that vein on his head would stick out?" Bobby asked from beside her, with entirely too much enthusiasm. "I mean, I've been wearing the hippie outfit for a week, and all I've been getting is headshakes and glares. I think he's finally developing a tolerance."

"Oh, it'd definitely work. Of course, we'd have to make sure Piotr wasn't around for the announcement, but it'd be worth it."

"Bloody strange variation. If Kitty's pregnant –"

"I am _not_ pregnant," Kitty ground out abruptly between clenched teeth as visions of Michael suddenly floated before her eyes, those memories far too close to the surface, now, after everything else. Stomach doing a slow, sudden, sick turn, she swallowed hard and tried to push them away as she got to her feet and headed toward the back of the ship, ignoring the others' apologies and protestations that they'd been kidding.

Michael wasn't real, and never had been. She knew that. The memories she had of an eighteen month old racing toward her across the lawn weren't any more real than her marriage to Peter, or his tricking her to enable the X-Men to take their child, or her subsequent imprisonment. She knew that, too.

Unfortunately, she also knew that Emma had pulled that nightmare from her own psyche. Her own deepest doubts and fears of betrayal. Emma's manipulations always held shreds of truth, which was why they hurt so damn much. And, today, she'd gotten one more confirmation of that.

She felt a hand settle on her shoulder, and exhaled slowly before turning her head to see Bobby looking at her apologetically.

"Hey Kit. Look, we just got carried away. Come back and sit down, huh? We'll chill out."

Kitty sighed and nodded as the tension and anger began to drain out of her, nearly as quickly as it had come. "Yeah, just overtired, I think. Sorry to ruin the fun."

"It's okay. We'll think of a different way to make Scott's vein jump out. Maybe I can get Illyana to conjure me up some of that rusty armor that guy on Xena used to wear all the time. He'd probably love the matched set, and Ali could tell him she was designing new costumes for the team."

Despite everything, Kitty chuckled softly. "That might do it," she admitted. "But go ahead with the pregnancy too, if you guys want. It'll be worth it to see the look on his face."

"Eh, we'll see." Bobby grinned as he escorted her back to her seat and waited for her to sit down before sliding in beside her.

"You okay, Pryde?" Illyana asked casually, still standing in the cockpit's doorway. No fuss, thank god, and everyone else was pretending nothing had happened. It occurred to her that they all knew her entirely too well.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." She smiled faintly and leaned against Bobby's shoulder. "Interest on the debt, you get to play pillow."

"Jeez, the things I do for the Mets," Bobby groused, shifting a little to sling his arm over the back of her seat. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." She smiled up at him gratefully, then closed her eyes and let the smile fade away. She had a lot of thinking to do, and procrastinating in the hopes that either things would get better or another crisis would arise that rendered the whole thing moot wasn't going to work. Not this time.

Her mind continued churning until finally, exhaustion won and she fell asleep.


	8. Homecomings

**Disclaimer/Notes/General Stuff You May or May Not Need to Know:** This fic is a collaborative effort between Sue Penkivech, Melodyrider, and Oldprydefan. The end of Giant-Sized Astonishing left us with a feeling that there was still part of the story left to be told, so here's our effort to do that. Takes place in current continuity, following UXM #499, Divided We Stand #2, and Captain Britain and MI-13 #, neither the X-Men and related characters, nor the giant bullet of doom, or the Skrull Empire belong to us. We're just using them all for our own amusement, especially John the Skrull. Because he likes it. Reviews are always welcome. We'd love to know what you think of the story!

Now, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Homecomings**

The hangar for the X-Men's new base in San Francisco was a tight fit, but somehow John had managed to squeeze their ship in enough to find a spot to land. The X-Men had cleared out their own aircraft ahead of time, leaving the hangar more or less empty except for the small group of mutants who had gathered off to one side to watch them touch down. Pete recognized his old teammates Kurt and Rasputin easily enough as the hatch opened, and though he'd never met them before, there was no mistaking Summers and the man known as Wolverine.

"Looks like the Welcoming Committee is already waiting for us," Pete said, giving the stubble on his cheek a little scratch as he looked over his shoulder at the others climbing off the ship. "John, I need you to work on getting hold of Stuart and letting him know we're back."

"Consider it done," the Skrull Beatle answered with a little wave, and disappeared back inside.

"Thanks, mate," Pete called after him before turning his attention back to the others.

Kitty gave him a tired smile as she stepped through the opening. "Looks like they called in the reserves," she said drily, her lips curling up in what would pass for a smile to anyone who knew her less well than he. The flying rat, who was perched on her shoulder, must have picked up on her lack of excitement as well, and gave her head a few nudges with his forehead until she resumed scratching him under the chin.

Mixed feelings, he was guessing. Kitty wasn't exactly one to hold a grudge, but he knew she wouldn't be able to understand her teammates leaving her out in space to rot, either. It was one of the things they'd had in common, way back when. No matter what else, you looked after your own.

At least a few members of the spandex set had gotten it right, even if they'd needed a little prodding to send them in the right direction. He wasn't too impressed with the rest of them, especially since they seemed to be hanging back and waiting for Summers to lead off.

"No one wanted to miss out on your grand arrival down the ramp?" Bobby suggested. "We could roll out a red carpet and everything."

Ali shot Bobby an approving grin and said, "Now you're talking." Then, glancing back at Kitty, she added, "I would have offered to do up your hair, but the whole 'fresh from the battlefield' thing is in vogue for conquering heroes these days."

A soft chuckle washed through the group, shared by everyone but Illyana, who seemed oddly pensive. For a moment Pete wondered if she was somehow nervous about reuniting with her brother, but when she shifted closer to Drake, the surly Brit heard her quietly ask, "Is the girl with the butterfly wings here?"

Drake's forehead furrowed in thought, but Pete realized immediately who she had to be talking about. "Last report I got was she was back in her home town in Wales, living something close to what might be considered a normal life," he replied before the X-Man could answer. Ever since M-Day the British government had made it a point to keep tabs on any mutants in the United Kingdom. He was going to have to see to it they got back to tracking the number, given how the war had interrupted that little program. Why Illyana was concerned about one of the Institute's former students was another mystery entirely, especially considering that from everything he'd heard, she'd been dead for a couple of years at least.

The blonde girl did seem a bit relieved by the news, however, the tension in her face draining away as she looked over at Pete. There even seemed to be a note of gratitude in her voice as she said, "Lucky her. That sounds kind of nice, actually." There was something else in her eyes, though, which Pete couldn't quite put his finger on. Whatever was going on in her head, she was keeping it to herself.

Finally, the gridlock was broken when a cloud of purplish smoke and a pungent aroma exploded in their midst with an audible 'bamf,' signaling the arrival of Kurt, who had apparently decided he didn't feel like waiting for everyone else. "Katzchen!" he said, bounding his way over to her before wrapping her in a fierce hug, which she eagerly returned despite her obvious exhaustion.

"Kurt!" Kitty exclaimed when she could pull herself away to breathe again, reservations apparently set aside for the moment, at least. "I've missed you!"

"And I you! You're well, then?" The elfin mutant who'd been her teammate in both Excalibur and the X-Men studied her face for a few moments before apparently deciding for himself that she was, and then looking around at the others assembled. "And Illyana!" The blue-furred mutant's long, prehensile tail whipped up and wrapped itself around Illyana's waist, drawing her into the hug as well. He gave her a quick squeeze and said, "Alive after all!"

Illyana chuckled softly before returning the hug. "Like Hell wanted to keep me? Good to see you, Fuzzy," she said, smiling.

"Pete Wisdom, I presume?" a voice interjected, and Pete turned to see Summers had made his way forward during Wagner's display. His jaw was working as if he were trying to swallow the idea that someone from outside had collected members of his own team and then gone off without so much as asking his permission, but he extended his hand nonetheless.

After debating for a moment whether or not he should just ignore the gesture, his newly gained diplomatic experience took over and he shook the proffered hand. "Summers, right? We found something you lost out in space, figured we'd bring her back." His mouth settled into a smirk and he spoke. Diplomacy be damned. It was overrated, anyway.

"And you found Illyana where?" Summers asked, jerking his chin toward the girl who was being mock-scolded by Wagner for not warning him properly before helping herself to her sword. "A side trip to Limbo?"

Pete snorted. "Better than just leaving her there if we had. But no, we found her in your office; seems she had a plan to harvest Frost's soul." He didn't bother to point out the debate as to whether or not his lady-love had the commodity in question. Summers probably had enough doubts on that score, himself.

Summers seemed to chew that over for a moment, ignoring the jab, and finally nodded. "She used magic to get Kitty out." There was a hint of a question in his voice, but before Pete could reply Emma sidled up to join them.

"No, I'm afraid Ms. Rasputin simply provided transportation and nullified the spell protecting the bullet," she stated coolly as she met what passed for Summers' eyes with a level look. "Robert was thankfully sufficient to the task of extracting Kitty from the bullet."

"Bobby?" he replied incredulously.

Well, wasn't that a nice commendation to get from your team leader, Pete mused. He glanced over at Drake, who was talking with the blue furball (McCoy, he was pretty sure) in low tones and gesturing toward Kitty, who'd been wrapped in a tight embrace by the resident Russian. Pete snorted at both the sight and Summers' attitude as he pulled the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Granted, he'd underestimated the icecube, but he figured Summers would've known his capabilities. Luckily Frost seemed to be eager to take the lead on that discussion, and he stepped back as he fumbled for a cigarette, then lit it with a hot knife.

A cloud of foul smelling smoke that didn't come from his cigarette heralded the arrival of his own former team leader, and he looked up to see Kurt's face a few inches from his own.

"Pete," the elfin mutant said, reaching toward him to give his hand a shake. "Thank you so much for bringing Kitty back. I swear, I could almost kiss you!"

"Try it and I'll set your tail on fire," Pete warned, though he returned the shake with a friendly enough smile. "So, you're setting up shop here these days?"

Kurt nodded. "For now, at least. San Francisco seems eager to thumb their nose at the Registration Act, and who are we to look a gift horse in the mouth? But you, mein freund – I understand you're taking British Intelligence by storm?"

"Uphill battle, but I'm working on it." He smirked and arched an eyebrow. "Find yourself at loose ends, I could maybe use a secretary."

"Sounds fun," a voice said to his right, and he felt an arm wrap through his. Startled, he turned to see Rasputin's sister grinning up at him. "I'll take the job."

"What?" he choked out as Kurt began laughing.

"You must admit, Herr Wisdom, she'd be a more comely addition to your staff than I – though only barely," he added, directing a mischievous look toward Illyana.

"Oh, I dunno about that, Fuzzy," she replied with a grin. "But you've gotta admit I type better."

"Do I get any say in this?" Pete protested.

"Doubtful," he heard Ali chime in from behind him. "What'd I miss?"

"Just Pete offering Illyana a position as his secretary," Kurt provided helpfully. "And your missing out on the moment hardly makes up for you taking off on a space adventure without me."

"Sorry 'bout that," she replied, patting him on the arm. "Next time I promise, we'll swing by and pick you up, but all you really missed was the big boom, and hey, that's practically my trademark." She blew on her nails and then buffed them on her shirt with a grin and then turned to Illyana. "Y'know, we're going to have to do some serious shopping if you're gonna be working. Not that Wisdom's office is likely to be big on the fashion charts, but you'll need a new wardrobe."

"I know! I was just thinking, I can borrow an image inducer from Scott and we could head out to the mall once we're done here…" she cast a quick glance toward her brother, who was still talking with Kitty, then shrugged. "I can catch Piotr later, I suppose."

"Nah, I need to shower and change and everything first anyway, you catch up and we can head out in a few hours," Ali replied with a wave of her hand. "Maybe Kitty can loan you something in the meantime, if her clothes didn't all get blown to kingdom come with the mansion –"

"When exactly did I offer you a job?" Pete growled, fighting the urge to bang his hand into his forehead. As if a gun-toting fairy on the team wasn't enough, he was going to have a demon sorceress to keep her company.

"Perhaps you should have Hank check you over if you don't recall," Kurt answered, fighting a grin without a great deal of success. "Honestly, Pete, it was only a few minutes ago, at most. If your memory is failing you, I think it's very prudent of you to hire a secretary – you wouldn't want to come into the office one morning and find that the utilities had been turned off for lack of payment."

Pete settled for scowling at him. And wondered, briefly, when he'd last paid the utility bill. Maybe he should check on that when he got back.

However else the discussion might have gone was set aside temporarily by the arrival of Rasputin and the utterance of a single word.

"Snowflake?"

Rasputin stood in front of his sister, watching her with a hopeful expression, but he came no closer, as if his feet were rooted in place. Normally, Pete would've made some crack about how the big Russian was so excited his brain had forgotten how to tell his limbs to move, but this time, he refrained. Kitty had once told him that when he got to know the real Colossus, the one _she_ knew, he'd understand why she felt the way she did about him, and she'd been right, as usual. Nothing showed that better than the way he was acting at this very moment.

If Pete ever acted that way with his own sister she'd clock him in the head and then check him for demonic possession.

Illyana paused for half a moment, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do, then lifted uncertain eyes toward her brother. Any hesitation Peter must have been feeling must have been shared, Pete figured, because she had the same kind of expression he did, all longing mixed with doubt.

"Heya, big brother," she said finally, lips quirking into a wry grin. "Long time, no see."

Rasputin breathed a soft, joyous laugh, but before he could say anything further, Illyana jumped right into a rush of words that almost ran over each other with how fast she spoke. "Not that I didn't try, but do you know what the mansion looked like when I went there? I can understand you wanting to move, but why would all of you just leave the place looking like that?"

She paused, waiting for him to answer, but Rasputin just blinked at her as if someone had just dropped an anvil on his head. "Well-"

"And then I found out you went to San Francisco, so I came here looking for Emma," her eyes shifted over to where the woman in question was talking with Summers and Drake. "Never mind the reason. But _then_ I find out Kitty's off in space and you're off in Russia and what was I supposed to do? And before we're even out the door Ali starts trying to design me a new costume so-"

She broke off when Rasputin threw his head back and laughed, one hand covering his eyes as they squeezed shut with mirth. Pete glanced over at Ali and Kurt and shared a quick smirk with them.

"What?" Illyana demanded, one golden brow lifting curiously.

"Forgive me, Illyana," Rasputin said, recovering quickly. "It's just nice to see that you still make it difficult to get a word in." He stopped, giving her an affectionate look as he placed one gentle hand on her shoulder. "I had lost all hope of ever seeing you again, my little Snowflake. And now you are back."

Illyana's whole face seemed to soften then, and her lips quirked into another smile. "Yeah, well, you'd better get used to it, 'cause you're not getting rid of me so easily this time."

And then she leapt at him, throwing her arms around to seize him in a fierce hug which he returned in equal measure, and whatever else they had to say to each other was spoken in soft whispers muffled into each other's shoulders.

A quick look passed between Kurt, Ali and Pete, and with a faint nod, they all drifted away to give the reunited siblings a bit of privacy.

Kitty was talking to Wolverine, who looked a lot less like an upright badger than most of the stories Pete had heard would have led him to believe, even some of the ones Kitty had told him herself. As if he could sense Pete's eyes on them, the hairy runt's flicked his gaze over to him and in a gruff voice called, "Wisdom! Get yerself over here. There's somethin' I want to say to you, bub."

"'Bub?'" Pete echoed quietly. That explained where Kitty got it from. When she'd said he was something of a father figure to her, she'd obviously meant it.

"Better do it, Pete," Ali said with a smile as she nudged him with an elbow. "Logan gets cranky when he's kept waiting."

Kurt agreed with a small nod. "Ja. You don't mind if I borrow Ali to get the full tale of your cosmic adventure, do you, Pete?"

"Nah, you have fun," Pete said with a dismissive wave as he took a long draw from his cigarette and made his way over to Kitty and the toy gorilla she was talking with. Apparently they had continued with whatever conversation he'd interrupted, as she was mid-sentence when he got close enough to hear.

"…Omega Red _again_?" Kitty said incredulously. "How do you three always manage to get into trouble whenever you go to Russia? The worst thing that happened to me last time I went was some bad borscht I got served at some greasy spoon." She paused as Pete fell in next to her and leaned closer to Logan. In an almost-hushed voice she added, "Don't tell Peter, but I really don't think I can stand to even look at that stuff anymore."

Logan simply chuckled and said, "Don't worry, Darlin'. Yer tastes are exotic enough as it is to not have to worry about craving anything with beets in it." That said, he turned a measuring look on Pete, eyes narrowing as if hunting for any flaw or shortcoming he could use to snarl at him about. A moment later he smiled, reached down to a six-pack at his feet, and thrust a chilled can into Pete's hand.

"Have a beer, Wisdom. You did good," Logan pronounced. It wasn't exactly what Pete had expected, but he wasn't about to turn down a beer. Even if it was probably some sort of American swill. "And I like the way you've got Summers grinding his teeth, too. Ever think about quitting Intelligence and becoming an X-Man?"

One of Pete's eyebrows arched suspiciously. First Illyana had decided she was going to be his new secretary, and now this? Somehow Pete didn't think the correct response to that was as obvious as it should have been. Pulling the tab of his beer, the spy said, "Depends," and took a long swig. It was decent enough, and probably better than anything else he might find around the place. "Which answer gets me a second one o' these beers?"

Logan barked a quick laugh and slapped Pete across the back hard enough to make him stumble forward a step and nearly spill his beer. "I think I'm startin' to like your ex, Kitty."

"Don't I feel honored," Pete grumbled as he straightened up and rubbed at his shoulder with his free hand. If this was his ex-almost-sort-of-father-in-law's way of showing his appreciation…

Any further thought along those lines was cut off by raised voices a short distance beyond their group, and Pete groaned and shook his head. "What the bloody hell is going on now?" he demanded of no one in particular. Heading back to his own personal madhouse better known as MI-13 was sounding better and better. The Rasputins'd had the right idea when they'd decided to head out of the hangar before the shit could hit the proverbial fan.

Logan, however, just shrugged. "Sounds like Slim's tying into Drake. Kid probably expected that one was coming."

Muttering a curse under his breath, Pete took another swallow from his beer and headed over toward the altercation. Somehow, despite the fact Emma'd put Drake up to coming along, he rather doubted she was going to bail him out.

"…couldn't very well just leave her there!" Drake was protesting, arms flung wide as Pete approached.

"No one's suggesting that," Summers countered, his jaw set. "But you knew we had people working on it. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that Emma hauled me into the astral plane for a reason. Y'know 'calm her down and then do what you need to do'?"

"I'm certain that Emma wasn't suggesting you attempt something you'd never done before on an unwitting and helpless subject," Summers retorted, glancing over to Emma as if begging her to jump in and agree.

Emma just shrugged diffidently. "Actually, I was. It seemed the best option, considering your so-called experts had come no closer to solving the problem than they were when they started."

"And not unwitting or unwilling," Kitty interjected, and Pete turned to see that she'd followed him over, Logan trailing not far behind. The way her eyes were flashing didn't speak well for her emotional state, and Pete fought an urge to grin. Their relationship might be ancient history, but that didn't mean he couldn't still enjoy Kitty going off when the circumstances warranted. "He asked. I knew the risks when I agreed."

Scott sighed and reached up to rub at his temples just above his glasses. "That isn't the issue here, Kitty. And you can't really expect me to believe you were capable of making a rational, objective decision under the circumstances."

"Then what is the issue?" Drake demanded. "Because you just said the problem was she didn't agree –"

Before he could finish that thought, Kitty jumped back in, no longer holding back her irritation with the X-Men's Fearless Leader. "You're questioning my ability to make the tough decisions, now? Seems to me I made the right one a month and a half ago – or would you have rather watched the Earth blow up?"

"Of course not," Scott retorted indignantly. "You made the only possible choice, and I realize what it cost you. And no, Bobby, I didn't say that was the problem. The problem was you didn't think through what could've happened. You should've-"

"Done what? Left me there? I think you pretty much had the patent on that plan of action. And no, I don't think you have any idea what it cost me, so excuse me for being relieved that someone was willing to get off their ass and do something about it. Because trust me," Kitty said, her voice dripping with both anger and barely concealed pain, "If I'd died? It still would've been better than where I was before they came."

"And on that note," the big blue furball who _wasn't_ his former teamleader interjected quickly while Summers' jaw was still hanging somewhere around his knees, "I think it's best if Katherine and I make our excuses to this inestimable company and adjourn to the medbay for a comprehensive scrutiny of her condition. Robert, perhaps you'd care to accompany us, so we can better ascertain whether or not your efforts on the lovely lady's behalf have caused you any physical distress?" he added with a look indicating that despite his phrasing, it wasn't a request.

"I'm fine," Bobby assured him quickly. "But yeah. I'll, umm, be down there. Later. Gotta run an errand first…"

Pete rolled his eyes. He was probably going to regret this later, but what the hell. He'd already acquired a demon sorceress for a secretary. Bailing Drake out of a trip to the medlab was minor by comparison, especially considering he looked as if he'd rather commit ritual suicide than head down to get a physical.

Given some of the things MacTaggert had subjected him to in the name of science during the course of his stay with Excalibur, he could sympathize with that attitude.

"Yeah, c'mon Drake," he said roughly, jerking his head toward the nearest exit sign. "Got the perfect medicine for what you've been up to today." He tossed Logan his empty can and smirked. "Gotta find something to get the taste of that out of my mouth."

"Yeah, listening to Slim always has that affect on me, too," the runt provided with a smirk of his own. "Two blocks south and one east."

"Don't forget – say no to the hydrogen bath!" Bobby called after Kitty as Hank led her toward a doorway on the opposite side of the hangar, his face taking on a slightly wistful expression as she waved back and then disappeared through the door.

Pete knew that look. Not that he'd ever worn it himself, of course, but…

"Right." He said, forcing that thought aside. Ancient history, now, and he'd made his peace with the fact he and Pryde were never getting back together some time back. "We're off then. Hope you don't mind me leaving the ship here for a bit?" he tossed out at Summers as he grabbed Bobby's arm and gave him a tug toward the exit. "John'll keep a lid on it. Just don't go…touching it or anything. Queen's property and all that."

He and Drake were going to have a little talk. And a whole lot of imported beer.

* * *

**Mail Deliverance**

Melodyrider here. All of us have been enjoying the kind words and feedback we've been getting, and we thought it'd be fun to show our appreciation with a new letters page. So without any further ado, on to the mail!

**Kurotakai**

_Definitely one of the better stories I've read recently. I especially like how you put a little comedic moments in nearly every serious scene while making it seem natural, like when Emma Frost finally reaches Kitty's mind and they immediately start to bicker._

_Anyway, please update soon! I can't wait to read more!_

Thanks, Kurotakai! We're pretty sure Emma and Kitty would agree that nothing could be more natural than the two of them bickering, regardless of the situation. ;-)

**Delora2047**

_That's really my favorite chapter so far with Illyana realizing the truth about her soul and breaking through all the lies though I love the rest of the plot too._

We love that chapter too, Delora, and this story has been as much about getting Illyana back as it is about rescuing Kitty. Pete's starting to think this might be a little too much of a good thing, but he'll learn to appreciate having a new secretary, really.

**Dark-bat**

_Man I love this story. And this update helped with my really bad emotionally devastating week._

_I really hope that Kitty gets everything worked out in her mind about Piotr. It would just be so horrible for them to go through everything they had gone through just to have it end here. You wouldn't be that mean to me, would you?_

_I'm really liking this John the Skrull. fun times.  
and Pete. I've always been a fan of his and, like I've said before, I love how you didn't warp his personality into making him a jerk. He still loves Kitty, probably always will, but he's moving on._

_ah. I have to go get ready for class. Thanks for the update!_

We hope things work out between Kitty and Peter, too, DB. They've got a lot of issues to resolve after this, though, so we'll have to keep our fingers crossed for them. Well, not Sue, but we're ignoring her for the moment. We're glad you're enjoying Pete, and especially John. This story just wouldn't have been the same without our favorite Skrull Beatle.

**Harry2**

_Well, its good to see Kitty starting to feel better and starting to act like herself again. I would LOVE to see her and Emma get into a situation where they have to work together for a while. Might cause the two of them to rethink their feelings about each other. Might not make for friendship, but it might mean some mutual respect._

Kitty and Emma working together? Sounds pretty explosive, but you never know!

**pd**

_This should be the rescue mission for Kitty. This is perfect on so many levels._

_It sucks how Marvel dealt with Whedon's arc. Everyone knows Kitty'll be back, but it probably wont be as epic or well told as this story is. So, congrats. You're officially awesome._

_Also, I love your Emma, its totally Whedon snark, with splashes of GenX Emma. And Pete is way too underused in the Marvel-verse nowadays, thank you for reminding me how utterly awesome he is._

You're making us blush, pd! We're all looking forward to having Kitty back for real, but we've been having a great time with our own version of her rescue. Emma and Pete are both awesome, and we couldn't resist the chance to see how their personalities would mix on the same mission.

**The Odd Little Turtle**

_verra verra interesting_

_eagerly awaiting the next installment_

Thanks, Turtle! We've been looking forward to this chapter too. Who doesn't like a reunion, after all?

**timkhj**

_Very cool! Glad to see the rescue successful and everyone on the way home. I HAD to put on my Beatles playlist after this chapter. It's actually fun to read that section listening to the actual song :). I'm curious how far you plan on taking this, because I enjoy the whole setting and character list. (Please keep things going!)_

We just _couldn't_ have John and Ali in the same story and leave out the music, timkhj! We're nearing the end of this story, but there's always a chance our cast (or at least most of them) will get together for another mission. Stay tuned!

Thanks so much for the feedback, everyone, you're all awesome and we love having you for readers! We hope to see you all again soon for Chapter 9!

- Melodyrider, Sue, and Oldprydefan.


	9. Looking Inward, Looking Ahead

**Chapter Nine: Looking Inward, Looking Ahead**

Not for the first time since they arrived, Bobby wondered how he'd let himself get talked into going out for drinks. With Pete. To a pub Logan recommended. Most of the men looked like lumberjacks who bit through trees with their own teeth and he _might_ have thought the women had stepped out of a cover for _Lowrider_ magazine if they were wearing more clothes. The air was thick with smoke, coarse laughter and the flavor of cooking grease. Every time he thought about it too much he had to tamp down a wave of nausea.

Pete, unsurprisingly, looked perfectly at home.

At least the beer was good. He forgot the name of the stuff Pete had ordered for him, but he had to admit, the man had good instincts when it came to lagers. It would have been nicer to be drinking it in a place that was more like Harry's Hideaway, but Bobby supposed he couldn't have everything.

Not even credit for a job well done, apparently.

Bobby's face darkened slightly as he tuned out whatever it was Pete was talking about and focused on the glass on the table, his fingers still wrapped around the smooth, round surface while the foam from his latest sip whispered its way back down toward the bottom. Leave it to Scott to decide he hadn't considered the potential consequences of his actions when at the time, the potential consequences had been all he _could_ think about. If Emma hadn't been around to spur him into action he probably never would have worked up the nerve to actually do it.

What made it worse, though, what he kept worrying at like a loose tooth, was the thought that Scott might have been right. Maybe something _had_ gone wrong, and they just didn't know it yet. Pete's timely excuse had been a good way to avoid letting Hank do his doctor thing with him. Or at least to delay it. There was no real way to put it off forever where big, blue and furry was concerned. But he simply couldn't shake the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that he should _be_ there, to make sure she was really okay. Especially now that he was beginning to realize that-

"You're thinking about Kitty, aren't you?"

Bobby's eyes widened slightly and he almost gave a start as his attention jolted back to what Pete was saying. He recovered quickly enough to hope Pete hadn't noticed the reaction, but if the comment meant what he thought it meant, the surly Brit had already guessed more than Bobby was comfortable with. But how? Was he being that obvious?

In a hasty attempt to look nonchalant, Bobby smoothly said, "Uh, yeah, actually – good guess. I was just making a mental note to grab that cheeseburger and onion rings I owe her before I leave. In fact, I probably ought to get her two cheeseburgers and throw in a malt while I'm at it." Bobby wasn't counting on Pete to swallow that lie, but it didn't matter. He _was_ going to have to make good on that bet, so there was enough truth in what he'd said to claim plausible deniability. "And chili fries," he added after a quick moment's thought, nodding decisively. "May as well, since she's not going to win another one of these bets again for a long, long time. The Mets are due for a winning season."

"Sure." There was a knowing look on Pete's face as he watched him over his whiskey glass, but no trace of a smile. He took a small sip and set the glass back down, the soft clink against the wooden table seeming louder than it should have been in the noisy bar. In an instant Pete's eyes became a shade more scrutinizing as he withdrew another cigarette to replace the one he'd just expired.

"Bit o' advice about her," he said, slipping the cigarette into his mouth and leaning forward almost conspiratorially. His words, however, were as blunt as the expression he was wearing. "Give her enough time, and Kitty will forgive just about anything, but the quickest way to lose her for good is to make her feel like you've abandoned her. So don't let that happen."

"Uh. Thanks," Bobby said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and taking a long swig from his beer. Not that he didn't appreciate the information, but that seemed like the sort of thing Pete should be saying to someone else. A big, Russian someone else, who was probably in the middle of the big touching reunion scene right now. Changing the subject suddenly seemed like a good idea. "But you didn't drag me all the way out here just to tell me that, did you?" he asked pointedly. Not the smoothest tactic, perhaps, but Bobby wasn't worried about being subtle at this point.

Pete shrugged. "Nah. We have a more serious matter to discuss."

"Oh?" Bobby asked incredulously. Everything he'd seen of Pete so far told him that outside of booze and tobacco, the only time Britain's snarkiest spy was truly serious was when lives were on the line. This he had to hear. "And what might that be?"

In a deceptively casual voice, but one which carried no irony, Pete said, "Thought I'd offer you a job. Seems I've managed to pick up a new secretary while I wasn't looking, so I figured as long as I was hiring on, MI-13 could use a new agent, too."

Bobby's jaw dropped as he stared at the man across him as if he'd just sprouted a second head. Blinking the surprise away, he wondered for a moment if he'd heard Pete correctly or if the beer had already fuzzed his mind more than he expected. Before he could stop himself, he blurted the first question that came to him.

"Why?"

After the way Scott had jumped right into lecture mode before they'd barely stepped off the ramp, Bobby wasn't expecting to have Pete, of all people, trying to recruit him barely an hour later. He figured his gut response should have tilted toward suspicion, but for some reason curiosity had won out instead.

Pete seemed to mull that over for a second, hint of a smirk suggesting that he was enjoying Bobby's momentary confusion. "Not that long ago we had some dodgy alternate dimension versions o' you and the other founding X-Men running around and causing trouble." Bobby's eyebrows made a sudden climb for the ceiling at that little nugget. An evil team of X-Men wasn't all that new, he had to admit, but there weren't that many than included 'him' in their ranks. Before he could ask the questions that leapt to mind, Pete gave his head a quick shake. "Something to do with the Shadow King, but we took care of it. They switched sides after that and helped us deal with a man called Albion who was trying to take England back to the Dark Ages."

Despite himself, Bobby found himself leaning forward with interest as Pete paused to take a drag from his cigarette. "I spent most of that working with _your_ double," Pete continued. "He did some impressive things, and I wouldn't mind talent like that on my team. Besides," he added with smug look, plucking his glass back up and waving it slightly toward him. "I know you've already gotten your feet wet, 'Drake Roberts.' Nice work breaking into Creed's presidential campaign, by the way."

Wincing slightly at the mention of his one-time alias, Bobby rolled his eyes and said, "Sam has a big mouth."

"That he does," Pete agreed.

"Okay, not the best fake name ever, but at least I never wore an eye patch and told people to call me 'Professor W'."

That got a good-natured chuckle from Pete, who shook his head with bemusement. "Guthrie again?"

"Who else?" Bobby confirmed. "He still wants to punch you in the mouth for faking your death, by the way."

Pete didn't appear concerned as he tilted his head back and finished off his glass "He'1l have to take a number." The dark haired man signaled to their waitress for another as he set his glass back down and then turned his eyes back on Bobby. "So how about it, then? Feel like signing on?"

"You really _are_ serious," Bobby said, giving Pete a scrutinizing look. He didn't really need an answer, and Pete remained patiently silent as he awaited a response to his question. Suddenly Bobby found himself giving the idea some real thought, and he almost hated to admit it, but the idea did have some appeal to it. "Well, I'll need to think about that for a bit," Bobby said offhandedly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It would mean having _you_ for a boss, after all."

"Heh. Don't take too long," Pete advised. "I'm taking the _Deliverance_ back tomorrow. Reunions really aren't my thing. They give me indigestion."

Somehow that didn't surprise Bobby in the slightest. He drained his pint glass just in time for the waitress to come by the table with Pete's next whiskey and nodded when she asked if he wanted a new glass as well. As soon as she was gone, Bobby looked over at Pete and let his smile become wider and undeniably self-indulgent.

"Well, since you put it that way," he said, folding his hands over each other, "Can I ask what your accounting department is like?"

* * * * * * *

John gave his mental clock a quick check and pressed the button to activate the cockpit viewscreen. As he'd expected, the hangar outside was empty. By now the reunion had either dispersed or found its way to a more amiable location. Possibly a little of both. That suited him just fine. No need to hurry; they'd be along soon enough, he supposed. The question would be how many Pete brought with him.

He hadn't been so distracted during the flight back to miss that look on Pete's face, and he'd known the man long enough to tell when he was planning a bit of recruitment. Despite his abrasive personality, Pete could be a tough one to say 'no' to when he was being sincere, so odds are there'd be at least one extra joining them on the return to England.

No chance it'd be Frost. That much, at least, he knew for certain. He wouldn't mind seeing more of Illyana. Nothing serious, of course, but it was always nice to have a pretty girl around to flirt with. Or more than flirt when the mood was right. On that matter, it seemed Pete was getting on rather nicely with Dazzler, now. He'd noticed something going on between them right from the start, but then, he was fairly certain _everyone_ had noticed it. The tension, the meaningful looks whenever they thought the other was busy, the quick changing of subjects and uncomfortable silences. It was a wonder Frost hadn't said anything just to tweak them for her own amusement. He couldn't wait to see how Tink felt about the whole thing. Hopefully there'd be popcorn handy when she got the news.

Of them all, Bobby seemed the most likely. Pete had been giving him more grief than anyone and the lad had done his job anyway. That was a sure way to win Pete's respect, and it didn't seem like the X-Men were giving him much of that, lately, so it'd be a novel change for the lad. It'd be quite a coup on Pete's part to steal away with one of their founding members. Whether he could pull it off or not was another matter, especially since Bobby quite obviously fancied Kitty. He might decline an offer to jump ship and move clear across the pond just on account of that alone. Then again, he might agree for the same reason, seeing as she already has a boyfriend, and he might prefer not to be reminded of that.

"Well, girl, I suppose it's time I made that call to get you back home, yeah?" John said, giving his seat an affectionate pat. The ship had been a nice bit of nostalgia, even if it was a much newer model than the last one he'd piloted, but it was another part of his former life he was going to have to put behind him forever. The Skrull invasion had made that point all too well for him. They'd killed him, called him a traitor, and John, Paul and George were dead. He hardly felt like a Skrull anymore. The fact that he could even _exist_ in Britain when every other of his people were magically killed thanks to Pete's wish only served to reinforce that sentiment.

John switched the viewscreen to communications mode and it wasn't long before Alistaire Stuart appeared, expression stern but otherwise unreadable.

"Where is he?" Alistaire said. "Where is that chain-smoking sod? Out drinking himself senseless, I expect."

"Who, Pete? He stepped out for a moment, Al. Can I call you Al?" John would need to apologize to Paul, rest his soul, for that one, but it was too much to resist.

"I'd really rather you didn't."

"Well, I just figured as we've probably been sacked, there was no need to be formal."

Alistaire quirked an eyebrow and seemed to bore his gaze right through John. "Sacked? What a curious notion. Right now the two of you are looking at a lifetime behind bars. Keeping your jobs should be the least of your worries."

"Oh, I dunno." John shrugged. "We've just come back from putting our lives in danger, and I've already died. Twice if you think about. Prison would be practically a holiday by comparison." Reclining into his seat, John kicked his feet up, resting them on the ship's control panel. "Besides, I was just calling to let you know we're ready to return the _Deliverance_, now that we're done with her."

"The _Deliverance_?"

"We decided to rename her, like," John said. "Seemed a bit more fitting wouldn't you say?"

Alistaire folded his arms together and pressed his lips into thin lines. For a moment John expected him to say something menacing. "Did you find her?" was what he eventually asked instead. He spoke cautiously, visibly bracing himself for any possible answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did," John told him. It was nice to say the words out loud, even if he hardly knew the girl. "She's going to be fine."

The relief on Alistaire's face was obvious. "Thank God," he said, heaving a long sigh. "You've no idea how glad I am to hear that."

John cleared his throat. "Well, seeing as that's the case, I don't suppose you'd be willing to put in a good word for us when we get back, would you?"

A knowing smile slowly grew across Alistaire's face. "Thought you said you weren't worried about the consequences of stealing that ship."

"Sure sure," John said, waving his hand dismissively. "It would be nice to have a job when we get back, all the same."

"Oh, I doubt that will be a problem. Between rescuing Kitty and finding new allies to help fight off the invading Skrulls, I believe you can both expect plenty of work to be waiting for you when you get back. Welcome home, John."

"Thanks, mate. It's good to be home."

And it was.

* * * * * * *

Pete finished his latest glass of whiskey and glanced over at the clock mounted on the wall just beyond the pool tables. It was getting late, and the question on his mind at that point was whether it was late _enough_. It hadn't been long before Drake finally excused himself to deliver those cheeseburgers and all to Kitty, leaving Pete alone with his drink and his thoughts, which suited him fine.

He had plenty to do with both.

Just a little longer, he decided, and he'd head back. There was still a spaceship to get out of the X-Men's hangar, after all. He'd been honest enough when he told Drake that he preferred to avoid all the excitement and attention that was surrounding Kitty and Illyana's return. If that had been all there was to it, though, he could have just as easily left with Drake and then taken off for England before anyone else could so much as wave good-bye. Even swinging by to bid farewell to Kitty wouldn't take that long, and he knew better than to try to leave without doing at least that much.

Trouble was, he had one good reason to linger a bit that was at least as compelling all his reasons for leaving, and he still hadn't quite decided how he felt about that. Drake hadn't fooled him for a second with his attempt to obfuscate the way he was thinking about Kitty. He knew the look too well, especially at the moment, with a certain other lady refusing to leave his own thoughts.

As he waited for ask for his next drink he heard the jukebox grind to life, playing a lively _Talking Heads_ song. Without even thinking about it, Pete's fingers began to drum softly against the table in time with the music.

"Well this is a surprise."

Pete looked up at the sound of the familiar voice to see Ali standing at the other side of his table, as if his thoughts had somehow summoned her. Fingers still tapping, he smirked around his cigarette a little and said, "I'm sure Wolverine mentioned you could find me here."

There was a twinkle in Ali's eyes as she affected an innocent look. "Oh, I just never figured you for a _Talking Heads_ fan," she told him with a smile and inclined toward his fingers, which he stilled the moment he realized what they were doing. "They're one of my favorite bands," Ali continued. "Finding you here? Total coincidence, really." She waved her hand dismissively as if the very idea was absurd. Pete didn't believe _that_ for a second. But then, he figured she probably didn't intend him to. "I just got thirsty after telling Kurt about what we did." Sighing dramatically, she added, "He wanted to know _everything_."

Expression both amused and dubious, Pete looked her up and down, noting that she'd taken the time to have a wash and change of clothes first. Compared to everyone else in the dive they were in, she looked horribly out of place, but an ex-starlet like her enjoyed standing out from what he'd seen. Not that he was complaining. The jewel-toned blue dress with spaghetti straps and a skirt that cut off at the knees she was wearing displayed her figure rather nicely and Pete had a bit of trouble convincing his eyes to lift back up to hers. Any longer and he'd have been leering at her outright. Blaming that on the whiskey for the moment, Pete said, "Sounds like him, all right."

"He wasn't the only one, either," Ali informed him with a smile. "Is there anybody sitting here?" She didn't wait for an answer, and slid into the seat before she'd even finished asking. "There's going to be a line of people waiting to shake your hand when you get back to the base, you know."

Pete made a slight face. He'd been afraid of that. "Nothing to make a fuss over," he said with a shrug. "Needed doing, that's all." Tilting his head to the side a bit, he added, "Besides, it wouldn't have even worked if you and the others hadn't come along." Every one of them, in fact. Even the flying rat had played a role in helping them rescue Kitty, although he didn't think that needed mentioning out loud.

Just then the waitress breezed her way up to the table, pausing long enough to ask, "Can I get your friend something while I'm bringing you another glass, hon?"

Ali tilted her head back slightly to look at the woman, and after pausing to think for a moment, said, "I'd like a Long Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall, thanks." Midway through the order, Pete noticed her giving him a sidelong look before her eyes slid back toward the waitress.

"I'll have that out to you in a moment," the curly redhead serving them said before smoothly taking Pete's empty glass and vanishing back into the surrounding throng.

Pete's brows had inched up more than a little by the time Ali turned back toward him, but there was a slight gleam in his eyes as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Interesting choice of drinks, there."

"I like to make _all_ my choices interesting ones," Ali replied, propping her chin on one hand as her other traced a finger along the wooden surface of the table. That got a slight chuckle out of Pete, who was sure she never had trouble making good on that goal. "Any suggestions on what to follow it up with?"

Pete pretended to think on that for a moment before saying, "Well I'm no mixologist, but you might be interested in Between the Sheets, or Sex on the Beach if you prefer." He watched Ali's smile grow with the mention of each drink and found himself leaning forward as he continued. "But whichever you choose, I recommend finishing the night with a Shuddering Orgasm."

Ali made an interested sound, almost a purr, and grinned outright at him. "It _would_ be a shame to miss out on that last one," she agreed. "I like the way you think."

"Good to know," Pete answered. He was enjoying the direction her mind was going himself. Then, after a slight pause, he decided he may as well go ahead with what he'd been thinking earlier. Trying to look casual, he said, "That offer to help you pick out a set of traveling leathers is still open, you know."

Assuming she'd kept the motorcycle. He hadn't asked for it back after what had happened. It had been a gift of Her Majesty's Government, for one thing, even if he had been the one who picked it out, knowing she'd love it. He wouldn't have said a word even if he'd gotten it for her himself, though.

If the proposal caught Ali off guard, she made no sign. Although there might have been something close to hesitation before she said, "Sounds good to me. How about looking around Harrods? They might have something. Maybe a Roberto Cavalli I'd like."

That sounded suspiciously like she'd given the matter some thought ahead of time in Pete's opinion. He didn't even know if a place like Harrods even carried proper leather jackets for that, much less something she'd like. Her response, however, gave him the opening he needed to actually voice the concern that had been at the center of his mind since before their ship have even touched ground.

"So are we going to give this another try, then?"

Ali snorted slightly, smile twisting into a smirk. "I kinda thought we settled that back on the ship," she replied.

"Suppose we did," the dark haired spy conceded. A second later he shook his head bemusedly. "The things me sister would say if she met you," he breathed. He was still sure she'd faked her death the way he had his own back when he was playing mentor to X-Force. And evil or not, Romany had never hesitated to offer her opinion on his girlfriends, usually when he didn't want to hear it.

The comment got a soft laugh from Ali. "You never told me you had a sister, Pete," she said, eyes sparkling again.

Pete's face darkened and a hint of regret entered his voice as he said, "I never told you a lot of things about me."

That seemed to bring her up short for a moment, and a silence hung between them until their waitress came back around with their drinks. Ali's slender fingers curled around her glass, but she didn't move to take a drink. Finally, she lifted her eyes back up to him and let a wry grin form on her lips. "I guess I've been sort of guilty of the same thing," she said, a bit more seriously than before. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a long sip from it, eyes never leaving his, before setting it back down and adding, "I owe you an explanation, Pete. About Longshot."

Pete tried unsuccessfully to make his face impassive. "No need for that. He's your long lost husband, yeah? Only natural you should go back to him." It wasn't as if he hadn't seen that sort of thing before, after all. He'd told himself at the time that it was just a good thing it happened before he'd gotten too attached, but after everything that had just happened, he had to wonder if he was a bit further along with that than he'd expected.

Ali sighed, the sound somewhere between resignation and exasperation. "If only it were that simple," she said, a wistful smile briefly playing at her lips. A second later she was all serious and conflicted again. Almost pensive. He remembered seeing the same sort of look on her when they first arrived at the Exiles' Crystal Palace, and it didn't seem any more right for her now as it did then. "I'm not sure how to say this. I've never really talked about it with anyone."

There was a lingering pause, and Pete found himself focusing on her, all his attention hanging on what she was about to say. "We were…expecting," she finally said in a quiet voice. The past tense in there, and all that it implied, wasn't lost on Pete. "Afterward, we tried to work things out, but there was always some crisis getting in the way." Ali made a slightly disgusted noise. "Great, now I'm starting to sound like Scott."

"Not hardly," Pete assured her. "He honestly thinks he hadn't done anything wrong by putting things off." Summers had made that abundantly clear by his reaction to Drake and Kitty's outbursts back in the hangar.

That got a slight quiet chuckle from Ali. "Good point. At first, most of it kept me with Longshot, so it was easy to tell myself I'd have a chance to deal with stuff later. But things with us were never all that stable, you know," Ali told him, blue eyes flicking toward the table briefly before rising back up to him, a glimmer of their usual sparkle starting to return. "Memory loss on both sides has been sort of a running theme, for one. And just when things were starting to seem like we had it all settled, he was gone. I thought he'd died, in fact. So when I saw him with TJ's friends…I guess it was harder to let go than I expected."

"I can relate," Pete said slowly, chewing the words over. He wasn't exactly proud of the way he'd acted around Kitty after the two of them had broken up either, and was glad to be past that. He valued her friendship too much to let something like that drive a wedge between them.

Ali shrugged noncommittally. "We just couldn't make it work anymore, though," she sighed. "Just one of those things, right?" Another sigh, wistful this time, and she picked up her drink for another sip. "And so now, here we are."

"Here we are," Pete echoed, motioning his own glass toward hers is a casual salute. It wasn't exactly what he'd expected, but made about as much sense as anything else he'd come to accept as the norm since falling in with the spandex brigade.

After they'd both taken a drink Ali braced her forehead against the back of one hand and gave it a slight shake, chuckling softly. Letting her hand drop, she met Pete's eyes again and in a semi-serious voice asked, "So what do you think? Feel like seeing if we can have that happy ending?"

Now it was Pete's turn to smile a little. "Funny thing about endings," he said, bright blue eyes looking directly into hers. "They _end_. I say we worry about that later and focus on all the _interesting_ stuff that goes on before the happy ending."

"Oh?" Ali said, perking up and letting her smile regain the wicked edge from before. "And what exactly are you interested in, Pete?"

"Thought we settled that back on the ship," he replied, mirroring her smile.

Ali beamed at him, her entire face seeming to light up with her smile, and for just a moment Pete felt his breath catch in his throat as he gazed at her.

"Good answer," she said.

**Mail Deliverance**

Melodyrider here, back on the letters page again with our responses to more of your fantastic feedback. We've all enjoyed hearing from you and finding out what you thought of Chapter 8. And now, on to the mail!

**Arashihawk****  
**

_Excellent story. I like how you resolved the plot thread that Marvel has left hanging there. More Kitty is always good. Your characterizations of everyone was excellent. Looking forward to more of your work._

Thank you! More Kitty is definitely always good, and we couldn't leave that particular plot thread hanging for precisely that reason.

**Scipio the Elder**

_For some reason I didn't get around to reading this until now. I shouldn't have waited! Great job on their homecoming. Your writing reminds me of Whedon's style, which is pretty high praise coming from me. Keep up the great work and PLEASE update soon!_

Thank you very much, Scipio! We had a great time with the homecoming and letting all the characters cut loose on each other. A little controlled chaos can always provide fun and a few surprises.

**timkhj  
**

_Great reunion here, nice seeing the interaction between the entire assembled ensemble. Great Scott-ness with perfect comments by the rest about his, well, Scott-ness. (I can't really explain that better - sorry). And the Pete/Bobby discussion could be interesting lol. As pd mentioned, this IS how a rescue should have been done! Hope you manage to continue with as much of the cast as possible :)_

Thanks, timkhj! Scott means well, but sometimes he just can't help himself, and the others know him too well to resist catching him in the act. Bobby was definitely surprised by what Pete had to say, but it looks like he's intrigued, doesn't it? "Heir of the Dog" sort of spills the beans on where the cast goes from here, but we're close to the end of Deliverance, so we figured there was no harm in a little preview.

**Delora2047 **

_That was a funny chapter. I liked that Illyana got the job as Pete's secretary, and Pete and Emma each musing whether the other one has a soul is just hilarious._

Thank you, Delora! Pete's keeps insisting that he's not so sure _he_ likes that Illyana's his new secretary, but he's been outvoted, and nobody listens to what he says about stuff like that anyway. He and Emma might have to make sure they don't spend too much time together. The combined snark might cause the universe to crack, and we can't have that, can we?

**Harry2**

_Ahh. Reading some GOOD fan fiction like this puts me in the state of mind to do writing of my own. And I musn't forget drinks for some of the cast of this tale! For Logan, a six pack of his favorite brew. For Pete, a six pack of good English ale. For Emma, a case of good white wine. For Kitty, a six pack of her favorite soda. For Drake, cold beer. And more activities for this group! I want to see MORE!_

What about Ali? She's feeling left out, now! It's okay, though. Throw in a glass of champagne and we're sure she'll forgive you.

And since "Heir of the Dog" was a one-shot side story, we figured we'd throw in the feedback we got for it as well, so we can respond to it too.

**Ducky'sgirl4ever**

_A great story. Very good._

Thank you!

**Tenderfoot**

_LOL! Very funny. :)_

Glad you liked it, Tenderfoot!

**timkhj**

_Ah-hahahaha! When i saw the note mentioning both Marvel and Disney, i was scared. I had NO idea how that would even begin to work together. Instead, it was a GREAT mix. Very Entertaining One-Shot! Thanks!_

Heh, sorry for scaring you, timkhj! It's definitely an odd combo, isn't it, but the idea of twisting that movie into the secret story of Pete's problem with dragons was too fun to resist!

Thanks again for the feedback, everyone. We love to hear what you think and look forward to whatever you have to say about our next chapter. Stay tuned for Chapter 10!

- Melodyrider, Sue, and Oldprydefan.


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